Drowning in the Blue
by Ashesofthefirststar
Summary: As Ichigo watches his first love and best friend get married, he is blinded to the loving eyes that watch him, but when festering curiosity leads to a moment of unforeseen passion, what will he do about these developing feelings?
1. Chapter 1

**This fiction will be short, three chapters, and is already done. I'll update really quickly.**

 **You may read this and think Ichigo comes off as a bit of an ass hole, but honestly, I can think of so many times in the manga that Ichigo's thoughtlessness led to some ass like behavior. If you've read my other fictions, you know I don't like characterizing Ichigo as this golden boy. He's 17, imperfect, and I love him that way. I'm a big believer that people's faults are just as beautiful as their good qualities, and even more so when a person can overcome them. So, with that in mind, enjoy.**

 **Please fav/follow/review**

 **This fiction was inspired by the song "The Drowning," by Keaton Henson.**

" _I'm born every day just to you love you,_

 _and think of you a little bit more._

 _Just hoping today I won't miss you,_

 _but I'm thinking I will do for sure._

 _Whiskey's the thing I won't turn to;_

 _Drugs are a thing that won't help._

 _This is all that I had to begin with._

 _I was as far as could be when I fell._

 _And I'm going down_

 _with this ship._

 _And I'll most likely will drown,_

 _but it's worth it._

 _It's worth it._

 _And if I'm a sailor, you're a captain._

 _You steered us off course and you know._

 _And the water's gushing is a omen;_

 _our love is an old weary boat._

 _And I'll hold your hair back if you're seasick,_

 _and I make sure you aren't too shore-safe._

 _Then I'm afraid I must be leaving,_

 _and I'm afraid that you won't relate._

 _And I'm going down_

 _with this ship._

 _And I'll most likely will drown,_

 _but it's worth it._

 _It's worth it._

 _It's worth it."_

 **xXx**

Ichigo watched as they whirled around. He watched as his two best friends swept across the dance floor, the tiny girl standing on Renji's feet. He watched as Renji fiend bothered, but couldn't, as his dopey grin betrayed him like it always did. Steadily, sedately, obsessively, Ichigo watched as the porcelain skin girl craned her head back in fits of laughter, laughter that grasped her body and dared her not to quiver. He watched as the coral hues of the setting sun filtered through the windows of the reception hall and made the girl glitter splendidly, and at just the right angle, it made her hair look as if it had been embellished by tinsel.

He watched on, thinking Rukia was beauty in motions as she twirled in her purple wedding kimono. He watched as the two somehow moved so fluidly in their fanatical awkwardness, how even bumbling, they looked perfectly matched. Their tandem motions were like loose choreography that spoke of history, chemistry, and connections built from years of trials. It was easy and natural. It was thoughtless, doubtless. It was right, and as he looked on from behind the rim of his sake glass, he wondered how he ever could've missed something so blatant.

That was simple, because his eyes had only been taking in half of the equation. His eyes never left her.

Ichigo never knew much about love or what it meant to be in it, but before this realization, he didn't think it was possible for this all encompassing, thought seizing, sleep stealing, heart wrenching, succubus of an emotion to be one sided. It was unfathomable to him how his heart could've been torn asunder, ripped itself in two only to give its other half to her when she would not, could not, do the same.

Now he was the half hearted man, destined to live fragmented and incomplete. Often he woke up with a twisting pain stabbing at his chest, and he knew it was his heart's open wound festering even more, oozing with infection caused by the inability to close without the other half she never gave and it's other half it couldn't take back.

How could his heart betray him like that, tether so tightly to a person who could never reciprocate that bond? Every day, every single damn day, he asked himself how could she not feel it too.

Now, standing amidst baltering, sake - warmed celebrators, amidst cheers and music, smiles and laughter, lover and inter tangled limbs spinning mindlessly, Ichigo understood. It hit him with the full weight of a cero to the gut. It was because she had a bond that was much stronger.

He had been delirious, assuming that just because she gave him the power to protect the ones he loved, the strength and backbone to combat the sorrow that seemed to know no end, that she too felt what he felt. That was an instant of her life, a flash decision made in a moment of panic, but Renji, that was a lifetime's worth of a mutual bond they consciously chose. That was a life time's worth of struggles, jokes, and heated arguments. That was a life time's worth of seeing each other at their worst and helping them become their best. That was a play fighting, food sharing, mischievous having, care taking, hand holding, slow burning lifetime of memories that turned into an untamable fire that could not be dampened.

Now that Ichigo thought about it, he couldn't even tell you what her favorite color was, but he knew Renji could. He could tell you that and so much more.

Him and Rukia, their moment was just a flash in time, a breath of massive oxidation that burned brightly for a mere wrinkle until it exploded. A day that was worth Ichigo whole painful existence was just a mission gone awry for Rukia. Maybe if she didn't have Renji, it would've been more, but none of that mattered now.

He was glad they were arrested in each others hold, because he didn't want them to see the feelings he tried so desperately to suppress. Equally, he didn't want her to look at him and _not_ see. He didn't want the indifference, for them to look at him too love drunk to see through Ichigo. As much as he didn't want them to know, he didn't want the knowledge that his two best friends could look at him and not see something they should be too close to miss. That just added insult to injury, knowing they couldn't, or didn't want to, really see him.

All this time, Ichigo thought he had been made out of glass when it came to Rukia. It seemed he was wrong. He had to look away.

He stood there, blank as a canvas, drinking sake and making frivolous conversation with whoever cared to attempt it. No one noticed his wondering gaze, and if they did, they said nothing.

He was spinning from a mixture of alcohol and self loathing. He should be happy. They're happy. She's happy, and he loved to see her smile. He wanted her happy and full of life, because she was so beautiful that way. Renji too, he deserved it. Really, he deserved her, so why couldn't that be enough? Why was he wishing it was him, that Renji was the voyeur with wistful eyes and alcohol on his breath? He didn't, but he did. He didn't want that for his friend, but he so badly wanted to stand in his shoes. He was full of contradictions.

Honestly, he thought he was better than this, but maybe hiding it away was enough. Maybe those selfish, conflicting feelings didn't matter as long as he choked on them.

Sometimes it felt like he'd choke on them until he died. War might not have been the end of him, but love was a good contender.

He wafted his gaze as a means of distraction. It didn't really work, but it was better than filling his time with coveting stares.

In a corner by himself, he saw Byakuya. As always, he looked sad. In fact, the dysphoria in his eyes seemed to match that of Ichigo's. It seemed heavy set, a permanent fixture in the Kuchiki lord, and though Ichigo often wondered why, he never cared enough to ask. Or maybe he just didn't want to know. He couldn't see that changing, and even if it did, he couldn't imagine Byakuya would be partial to his quandaries.

He knew a little bit of the story behind Byakuya's wife, and a part of him wanted to be more empathetic, especially because he was usually the type to care, but his own turbulent heart seemed to stop him. His misery did not love company.

Besides, Byakuya had been like this for as long as Ichigo had known the man, and if he was at peace with his sadness, who was Ichigo to say it should be otherwise?

He blinked at the man a few times. Sometimes it baffled him that Byakuya and Rukia weren't biological siblings. They looked just alike. They had the same unblemished, ivory skin, the same lustrous raven hair, the same heavy, hooded orbs that dragged you into their briny wallows. Only Rukia held her eyes strong. They couldn't be missed or ignored. They existed in a constant state of lively fire that refused to be caped. When you looked into them, you got caught in a daze.

Byakuya's, on the other hand, stung to the sight. No one looked. No one wanted to see, because they reflected a sorrow that could not rest. They reflected a man who was too human for his cold shell, and the paradox ate at you. You became unsettled by their beautiful agony. They made you want to love him, patch him up, even though you knew you never would. Maybe that's why Byakuya closed his eyes, because he knew no one wanted to see, and just as much, he didn't want to see everyone look away.

And those who did look, like the Shinigami Women's Association, it was so shallowly. It was as if his painful beauty was a novelty to be gawked at but never taken seriously. It's as if they'd prefer him with pain in his eyes, only so he'd maintain that distant and seductively somber disposition they all loved. He was everyone's favorite mourning prince.

Ichigo blinked at the man once more, and like everyone else, he looked away. Those sad heather - hued moons looked too much like Rukia's, and he didn't know how he felt about that.

He poured another cup of sake and tried not to sulk. Since the war, he wasn't able to go back home. Ichigo wasn't one for self pity, but sometimes it seemed like his life was a cosmic joke of epic proportions. He risked everything to protect his world, and as a result, he had to give up his world anyway. Now he was stuck in this perpetual hell, forced to watch the girl he'd fallen in love with love someone else, forced to make a life amongst the dead.

Life was cruel and full of morbid humor. He was sure life was laughing at him.

He turned to pour another glass, only to find a full one being held out in offering. First he looked at that lithe yet strong hand, then his gaze moved upwards.

Looking at him was Rukia eyes, only not. They were just as expressive but in a way that made him want to tear his own away.

"Byakuya," he rasped, tentatively grasping the glass. "Thanks…"

The man nodded in acknowledgment, and Ichigo forced himself to look, and god, he looked so much like Rukia.

He almost wanted to light those eyes up. Not because Ichigo wanted him to look more like his sister, but because he couldn't stand how they made him want to know the man's pain as his own.

"I would be careful with your alcohol intake, Kurosaki Ichigo," he warned. "It will only make you more obvious."

Ichigo fretted his eyes in confusion until realization dawned on him. How did Byakuya know? How did he see what his own two friends didn't?

Seeing the unspoken question in Ichigo's eyes, Byakuya said, "Most people only see what they want to, but I prefer to see things as _is_."

Ichigo scowled a little deeper. "Oh yeah, and what do you see?"

"A hurt heart."

Something about the words seemed deliberate in their phrasing.

"Why don't you say broken?"

"Because," he rationalized, "nothing about you is breakable."

Why that made him angry, he didn't know. For some reason, every dryly delivered, compassionate word coming from Byakuya's mouth only fueled his anger. He didn't want to be understood, not by Byakuya. He didn't want to be understood at all, because his sadness was all he had these days, and when it was prodded, it hissed with anger.

Why did healing hurt? Maybe Byakuya would know, but he wouldn't ask.

"You don't even know me," Ichigo tutted. "We barely even talk."

Byakuya sighed, and there was a sadness in it that pierced Ichigo's ears.

"I do not speak unless there is something worth saying."

"And what makes this worth your precious time?" Ichigo ridiculed.

Devoid of any verbal emotion, Byakuya said, "You are here experiencing a great pain, and you feel as if not a person in the whole world, the world you saved, sees you. I could see nothing more worthy."

Ichigo's breath became humid and his chest swelled with something he could only define as hostility. He wished the man would stop. He wished he'd go back to his respective corner so they could sulk in solitude. He didn't care to bond over their pain. He did want to be looked at with such vibrant despair that seemed to reflect his own, and he especially didn't want it to make him feel _things._

He didn't want Byakuya to be the one who saw him. This man who looked so much like Rukia, but wasn't. A man who he'd only shared a hand full of vague conversation with and nothing else. A man who held himself so callously. It shouldn't be him. He knew nothing of Ichigo, but Rukia did. So why this man? Why Byakuya?

"Do not worry, it is not obvious to the others, but you'd be surprised how liquor can bring out a person's most unfavorable parts."

Ichigo looked over to a blitz Kyoraku swaying to the music with his longtime companion. "Kyoraku looks fine."

"If you call that horrible dancing _fine_ ," Byakuya remarked.

Ichigo snorted. "Well at least he's having fun."

After a moment, Byakuya offered offhandedly, "If you'd like a distraction, I would be willing to dance with you."

If Ichigo hadn't broken out into hysterics, he may have noticed the way a more visible pain washed over the Kuchiki lord's usually stoic face. Then again, that pain wouldn't have surfaced in the first place if he had of contained himself a little better.

"Ahh," Ichigo wheezed, patting away tears that pooled in the corners of his eyes, "good one, Byakuya. What next, a date?"

"If you would like," Byakuya said matter of factly.

Ichigo threw him a questioning glare before sputtering laughter besieged him again. He was roaring, and he knew he shouldn't have been laughing so hard, but the alcohol in his blood didn't give much credence to should haves.

Finally, he said, "Who knew you had a sense of humor, Byakuya. Thanks for the joke, I needed a laugh."

The noble dipped his head marginally, and somehow his voice became both stiffer and sadder, both more pained and more apathetic. It was undefinable and existed in the in-between. "Yes. A joke," was all he said before he turned to walk away, and if Ichigo wasn't still cracking up, maybe he would've noticed.

"Kurosaki Ichigo, it may seem as if your heart is unfixable, or that you will never connect with another in such a way, but trust that this isn't true. I know this first hand," Byakuya said, his back taunting to the young man.

This change seemed to catch Ichigo off guard, and he spun around as a result.

"Huh?" he questioned, that anger rekindled once more. "I doubt I'll find someone who I connect with like Rukia. She gave me my powers for kami sake."

"True," Byakuya agreed, "you'll never find someone like Rukia, however, one day, you'll find someone who subtly, yet daily, will consciously choose to do whatever they can to make your life better just because they yearn to be apart of your life even on a small level. They'll desire to make you happy the way you make them by just existing, and if you think about it, that is a much more beautiful, stronger connection than a random one that was thrusted upon both parties, neither of whom had little choice but to accept it, in a heat filled moment."

Ichigo was baffled into silence. So Byakuya said one last thing. "Is that not the connection that has led Renji and Rukia here today? This is not to undermine your connection with Rukia. For what it is, it is beautiful, but the connection that creeps upon you, that is built with patience and thoughtfulness, is much more potent in the end." A pause. " Then again, you are probably to dense to see something like that even if it glared you in the face." Byakuya thought, _'Just like that human girl,_ ' but kept that to himself, and before Ichigo could say one word, Byakuya was gone, vanished into the sea of people.

It wasn't Byakuya's words that angered Ichigo, because he had already realized that himself, at least to some extent. He realized why Rukia and Renji's bond was more solid than Rukia's and his own, or at the very least, more inclined to lead to a lifetime of partnership. It was the questions Byakuya's words made him ask himself. Like, if it had been anyone else that night, anyone else who had given him their powers, would he had fallen in love with them too? If he had went to save someone else from execution, and had met Rukia latter down the line, would he have even looked at her twice?

There were things about Rukia that he really liked, like her unwavering confidence, her tenacity, her empathy, but were any of those aspects of her the reason he had fallen for the girl, or was it simply all over shadowed by the bond they created on that dimly litted, debris riddled street? Were all those likable parts of the girl just benefits that wouldn't stand up on their own? Was that really a good reason to be in love with someone, for what they gave you, but not who they were, and if not, then why did he feel as if this love was his strongest enemy yet? Should love even feel like an enemy?

Ichigo couldn't be sure. Even more so, he couldn't be sure of why he wanted to follow Byakuya. Maybe it was to yell at him. Maybe it was just to talk, but something imperative pulled on him.

Sick of questions filling him, he decided to drown them with more sake. After three more back to back shots, Ichigo went off in the direction Byakuya had disappeared to.

From across the hall, Ichigo could see Byakuya exist the building. Fighting against sake - fueled, clumsy motions, Ichigo maneuvered himself through the crowd. With each step, he bolstered himself with irrational anger. He thought about Byakuya, that eye thief. The way he stole Rukia's eyes and mutilated them with a sadness that made Ichigo feel things, bizarre things that made him want to know Byakuya. Things that had Ichigo wanting to both look away from those eyes and swim to their absolute depths in search for something he was unsure of.

He was drunk, of that he was certain. He felt such an anger that he thought he might just punch Byakuya on sight, but when he finally saw him, standing against the railing of a gazebo, taking conservative sips of sake with such graceful movements that they looked like those of a practiced dancer, surrounded by a backdrop of star scattered tenebrosity, he couldn't help but marvel.

Ichigo had never thought of a man as beautiful, but when he stood there, all moon bath and proactively silent, Ichigo couldn't help but to notice what a gorgeous creature the Kuchiki lord really was.

Maybe it was for the ways he looked like Rukia, but in so many ways, he looked nothing like her, and Ichigo wasn't sure which he appreciated more, their similarities or their distinguishable qualities.

He walked up the gazebo steps and over to the man. "You're not much of a party person, huh?"

The noble cocked an eyebrow at him before returning his gaze to the moon.

"And you are?"

"No. It may come as a surprise, but I actually prefer calm and solitude more than I don't."

"Perhaps you're an introvert," Byakuya speculated, "That's not to say you don't enjoy the company of people, but that they drain you. People are often a lot of effort."

Ichig0o looked out into the dark environs thoughtfully.

"I think you're right. Half the time I rather be saving people than spending time with them. Don't get me wrong, I care about my friends, but..." He looked over to Byakuya, and his eyes softened. "You don't drain me."

The noble shrugged a shoulder elegantly and sipped his sake. Ichigo watched the way Byakuya's lips pressed against the porcelain rim with an odd fascination.

"Certain people's personalities will bring out different parts of your own, react differently with your own than others."

Their glares locked, and everything felt hazy.

"Do you moon gaze often?"

Byakuya nodded.

"I enjoy how small it makes me feel. It puts much in perspective about myself and this world."

Ichigo's lips vibrated humorously.

"Who knew the great Lord Kuchiki could be so humble?"

A scintilla of a smirk surfaced on the man's face.

"Perish the thought," he remarked dryly. "The moon is probably the only thing I'd openly admit my inferiority to, so there's no need to be too shocked."

"And he has a sense of humor! You're just full of surprises."

"You only say this because I'm often silent."

Ichigo gave a breathy chuckle.

"You do lend yourself to being mysterious. A guy can't help but to wonder about you."

At the statement, Byakuya turned an intrigued glare towards Ichigo.

"Do you often wonder about me, Kurosaki Ichigo?"

Without the filter that his sober mind typically blessed him with, Ichigo confessed, "Probably more than I should." He turned his gaze back onto Byakuya, and once again, their eyes seemed to lock in some wordless trance, a force of attraction weighing down on them. Neither pulled away, as if they were challenging each other to speak first, but for what seemed like forever, neither did.

Since he stepped onto the gazebo, thoughts of Rukia subsided. Even staring into eyes that looked so much like hers, he could see only how they differed, and he found the curiosity he had always held towards Byakuya driving their conversation. Only, for whatever reason, her memory once again assaulted him, breaking the glass that encapsulated them in their spell, and oh god, did Ichigo feel conflicted. Her face was shining through Byakuya's, sullying his uniqueness, and he both hated and loved their similarities. He was still full of contradictions. Mostly, he needed to look away.

Raking a hand through his hair, Ichigo noticed, for the first time, the soft thrum of music rolling out of the reception hall. Unsure of why, he asked teasingly, "Do you still want to dance?" Only it wasn't really a joke, and Byakuya knew that. Ichigo blamed it on the liquor mixing up his good senses.

Byakuya hesitated, but then he nodded.

"Yes," he said, as if it was the most important yet obvious answer he'd ever give.

Ichigo thought they'd do something stiff and regal, so he was taken by surprise when two strong yet gentle hands claimed his hips and pulled him close, and even more surprised when he fell into place so naturally, winding his arms around Byakuya's neck.

Ichigo dipped his head against the man's collarbone as he let out a sigh, and he felt utterly creamy in Byakuya's hold. Only the two couldn't meet eyes, because there was too much vulnerability in them, too many unspoken questions, festered pain, and incomprehensible feelings. It was as if they knew to look each other in the eyes meant they'd have to face the surrealism of their reality, and it would complicate an otherwise euphoric simplicity.

Just for a moment, they wanted to enjoy this. They wanted to enjoy each other without the complexities of what they were feeling. That could come later. For now, they just danced.

Their bodies intermingled and swayed together gently like tree limbs in a summer breeze. Ichigo was pressed against the steadying heartbeat of the man, and he could feel it reverberating through him until it matched with his own and created a drumming much more rhythmic than the music surrounding them.

The noble's arms looped around him, and his palm pressed against the dip in Ichigo's back in an encouraging yet not oppressive way. His hands told of a great desire to hold Ichigo, but an even greater respect that would never allow the nobleman to keep him against his will.

He did not admire Ichigo in the way a trophy hunter admired a lion's pelt, but as a gardener admired a plot he tended to, without possession, but with a thrill for the feral beauty that was meant to be spectated by everyone, and because of this, Ichigo felt strangely at peace in the man's arms. He felt like himself, completely un-plucked and cherished for all that he was.

As their breathing started to synchronize and their bodies demolished any existing space, Ichigo became overwhelmed with all the things that made Kuchiki Byakuya so much more than a reflection of Rukia's features. Like his sweet aroma and the way his lips were fuller and pinker than his sisters, or how he was much warmer to the touch, but not in a scorching way. He noticed how he didn't have to look down, but straight ahead to see the man, how his hair was longer and feathery, slightly wavy in a way Ichigo had never noticed before. He observed how strong his arms and jaw line were, and for unknown reasons, he enjoyed that. His breath smelled like ginger, and like his touches, they were tranquil, careful yet confident in their purpose.

When their collided bodies moved against each others, he could feel that Byakuya was so much more than sad eyes and Rukia's brother, and Ichigo was staggered by it all. His sent, his hold, his fluidity, it sent him reeling. He became drunk on the man's differences.

Maybe that's what caused him to lean his head up just enough to look at the man's pretty mouth and lick his lips at the sight of the Byakuya's slightly parted ones. He became suddenly parched, and it was as if his lips just knew there was only one thing that would satisfy him.

Tenderly, he pressed his lips against Byakuya's, and he could feel them twitch against his own, but they quickly pressed back. Like two kids sharing their first kiss, they pecked each other's lips in exploration, separating minutely in between each innocent joining of lips as if they were uncertain and scared, but each tingling brush of their mouths created more courage. Each kiss lingered longer until they became strong and bold, and they kissed each other as if they swapped affection everyday, as if it was just an obvious truth they shared in.

One of Byakuya's hands trailed up to cup Ichigo's neck, and the other edged them even closer together while Ichigo's hands slid from the man's shoulders and grasped both sides of Byakuya's nape underneath his hair. Ichigo had never kissed anyone, and if you had've asked him before, he would've thought he'd be sloppy, an awkward novice, but his mouth seemed born to kiss Byakuya's, and it was as if he just knew how without thought. He knew when to plunge his tongue in and the way to move and massage it against Byakuya's own, and oh god, did Byakuya know just how to kiss him back. Their kiss was penetrating, needy and steady without being bumbling and careless, and by the second, it grew more and more possessive and bruising.

A heat consumed all thought as Byakuya nipped and sucked at Ichigo's bottom lip, and Ichigo moved them against the railing, running one of his hands down Byakuya's back in a need to know the man's body with more accuracy. When his hand caressed the noble's supple bottom and a moan breached the confines of those perfectly blushed lips, they broke apart just a bit and rested their foreheads against each others in an attempt to catch the breaths they had fed to one another.

During the whole endeavor, neither looked in each other's eyes, as if they shared a silent agreement that it would complicate and break whatever bonded the two in that moment. It would make the world around them come back into perspective and give breath to all the reasons that they shouldn't be doing this.

During this moment, Ichigo had not once thought of Rukia. It was as if they existed in a vacuum, and none of their baggage could get in, but when Ichigo opened his eyes and saw the way Byakuya's fluttered, saw the way they were drowned in something so unusual and beautiful, something so different than what he was use to seeing in the man, reality came crashing down on him. His gray swirls pierced the air with something so earnest and real, and damn it if Rukia's memory and his feelings for her didn't have to ruin it all, because all those emotions surging in the air around them became too much. He looked too much like her, yet not like her at all, and maybe it was just because that look reminded him of the way Rukia would never look at him, but he couldn't take it.

Even though Byakuya was latched, perhaps filled with the same fear but just as much hope to overcome it, when Ichigo jolted from their touch as if they had been engaging in something dirty and wrong, he did not attempt to hold the man back. He let him free, and Ichigo noticed something both naked and guarded in the man's expression.

Ichigo pulled at his hair and created distance, stepping back so the whole length of the gazebo separated them. It might as well have been an ocean.

"What the hell?" he baffled, "That was rash, even for me. I- I mean, what the hell were we just doing? What were _you_ doing? It's not too off for me to do stupid, rash things, but you?" He shook his hand in confusion. "Why?"

Despite how many times Ichigo had only wished to not look at Byakuya that evening, despite his own frothing shock and anger, when the noble closed his eyes, Ichigo felt so frigid and wrong at how those eyes blazed for him, only to hide themselves away at Ichigo's thoughtlessness. Like a meteor flashing across the sky for a transient moment, just like that, that rare and raw instant had passed, and he craved nothing more than to have it back. At the same time, he didn't. Like always, he was full of contradictions.

"Perhaps for you this was a rashly made choice, but the same can not be said for me."

Ichigo didn't understand.

"What?"

Byakuya opened his eyes, and they looked at him with the full weight and protection of a glacier. Ichigo, despite how burning up he felt, shivered at the sight.

"I believe there is little left up to interpretation in my words."

And with that, Byakuya walked slowly passed an enduringly confused Ichigo and down the steps. There was plenty of time for Ichigo to stop the noble if he so desired, but they both knew he wouldn't.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys, heres the 2nd chapter for you. I got several followers but only one review (You're forever amazing, Tifanny91) Please give me some feedback, because at the end of the day, I write this for you guys. Fan fiction is nothing without the fans.**

 **Good Vibes ~ Ashes**

 **xXx**

It had been three months since the night of Rukia's wedding, and since then, he'd only seen Byakuya in meetings and occasionally in passing. Their eye's never met.

Though, despite being spared from the man's vicinity, his thoughts were not graced with the same refuge. In fact, his mind betrayed his desire to banish thoughts of his night spent being held by Byakuya Kuchiki. It wouldn't leave him. It confounded him.

On his end, Ichigo blamed his copious alcohol intake and his disillusioned mind set for the moment of weakness. It probably didn't help that Byakuya looked so much like Rukia. Then again, he couldn't say with complete sincerity that this was the results of something as simple as their similarities.

After many restless days spent analyzing Byakuya's words, it all became rather obvious to Ichigo. Byakuya Kuchiki held feelings for him in some manner, but he couldn't fathom why. Rukia and Renji had reasons to love each other. Even Ichigo had reasons to love Rukia, albeit weak, but what reason did Byakuya have?

The two were certainly not enemies anymore, and since Ichigo had came to live in Soul Society, they worked well together and held a respect for each other and their opinions, even if they were often opposing. Ichigo had also taken notice that, despite their surface level qualities, the two had more alike than they did not.

They were both loyal, stubborn, and marked by a pain that caused them to hold their facades tightly. They were both unseen by the people around them, the ones who should've seen them the most limpidly. However, there wasn't a spectacular connection between the two, so Ichigo had to wonder what made the noble invest in him. He had wonder when and why he had changed in Byakuya's eyes.

Apart of him, even if he wasn't so assured in that part, considered the idea that it was a mere physical attraction that had ran a bit ramped. Though, he never thought of the Kuchiki lord as a man who'd let fanatical thoughts rule him, but he couldn't think of anything else. For whatever reason, the young man couldn't imagine that Byakuya held affection towards him for solely the person he was, for nothing more than being Kurosaki Ichigo.

Which is why Ichigo had became particularly unsettled yet flattered when he started to receive unmarked gifts, but not just gifts, little tokens that told him someone watched him. Someone saw what he enjoyed, took the time to investigate his taste, noticed the items he needed or that would make his life easier in some way.

The gifts were thoughtful and sincere, and his heart couldn't help but to swell at these weekly gratitudes.

First it was a rust hued scarf woven of the finest silk, (The mixture of red, brown, and orange highlighted his features perfectly, and it was obvious the sender took this into consideration) a garment very few could afford within the denizen of the gotei. It was the beginning of winter, and he recalled walking to a meeting as he rubbed his chill bumped covered arms, because his attire was anything but appropriate for the harsh tundra that was Seritie in December. Then when he returned to his office the next day, a wrapped gift sat inconspicuously on his desk.

That was the first of many bestowals from his faceless admirer. In the months that followed, he received baskets of his favorite fruit and some of the finest herb tea he ever savored, along with a beaded holder for his dual zanpakuto that gave consideration to his ascetic taste, just to name a few.

Once he impassively mentioned at a meeting that his division always lingered with a stale stench, and the next day, he was greeted by a mellowly sweet bouquet that drifted in the smoky ambiance. The cause being incense that had been strategically placed around the confines of his office. The most recent and heartfelt of gifts was sheet music. It stirred him, because only Rukia knew he played the piano from time to time, but there was no hope that the presents were coming from her.

After awhile, he thought the gift giver would reveal themselves, but soon Ichigo realized that it wasn't about acknowledgment to this person. Perhaps that's why he couldn't find himself any degree of creeped out by the mysterious voyeur, or the fact he had became the vigil of such a gallant individual. Maybe he should've - at least, that's what people around his division kept telling him - but the idea that someone would rather secretly work to make his life a little bit better everyday than make themselves known and risk their actions being deterred or rejected in someway made Ichigo warm at such a radiant selflessness.

More than watched, he was _seen_ by this person, and Ichigo found himself abnormally giddy to know what the person would see next.

Only Ichigo couldn't escape the nagging feeling that this distant admirer was in fact Byakuya. Whoever this person was, they were stealthy, swift, exuberant with money, and had access to uncommon knowledge about Ichigo, all of which described the Kuchiki lord. More importantly, Byakuya had proven he not only saw Ichigo, but held affections for the man.

This troubled Ichigo, because he couldn't help but simultaneously want it and not want it to be the noble. Still, with the way they seemed to keep their distance from each other, as if it was a non verbal rule they'd both internally agreed too, Ichigo had his doubts. Not to mention the way Ichigo had left things made him less than worthy to be lavished with such attention. Truthfully, considering Ichigo had instigated the kiss, he couldn't help but feel horribly guilty at the way he left things. Sometimes he could be cruel in his thoughtlessness.

It wasn't so much that Ichigo had a problem with being attracted to a man - and if the way his body melted with unforeseen desire by the hands of Byakuya Kuchiki, he most certainly was physically attracted to him - because if he was being honest, if he had never loved Rukia the way he did, Ichigo would've probably been charmed by the noble.

Over the last two years, he had learned more about the man, and he admired him dearly. He admired his virtue and self sacrifice, his subtle, almost unnoticed compassion. He admired the way he gracefully balanced the weight of being the head of the most infamous clan without ever again losing his volition like he once did. He admired his shrewd, tactical mind. He admired his power, deceiving beauty, and the way his spiritual pressure felt almost as velvety as his voice when it surrounded you.

But he _was_ in love with Rukia, and furthermore, even if he wasn't, even if he found aspects of the Kuchiki lord admiral and endearing, Ichigo was adamant that he could never return his feelings. He was Byakuya, did Ichigo really need another reason? He was the stuffy noble and Ichigo was the insolent brat. They existed in constant opposition. The only connection they had was one of which they had both tried to kill each other on multiple occasions, and that was probably an accurate omen for how any sort of relationship between them would play out. Mostly, for Ichigo, though he found the man respectable, that was all it would ever be: respect. Byakuya Kuchiki could not move his heart. He could not reign in the wayward half of the organ that only beat in Rukia's unwitting hands. It was just infeasible.

Yet, despite his utter rejection that the two could ever be more than cordial comrades, his dissent always brought about a memory from that night.

" _ **This is not to undermine your connection with Rukia. For what it is, it is beautiful, but the connection that creeps upon you, that is built with patience and thoughtfulness, is much more potent in the end."**_

Why this memory always seemed to suddenly slink upon him as if it was forever waiting patiently in the most shadowy crannies of Ichigo's mind, he couldn't be sure. Because despite how the noble alway took him by surprise, how he could make Ichigo flutter and feel, reconsider, despite how they could show off their scars to one another and notice how they looked a lot like each others, the notion that they could build a solid foundation from those nuts and bolts was absurd. So much so, Ichigo wasn't even willing to entertain the idea. It was like trying to build a mansion upon a spinning-top.

Though, as they say, denial is a strong thing, because Ichigo couldn't admit that it was all the ways Byakuya reminded him of Rukia and his own unrequited love he desperately held to that made him squirm and recoil at the noble's affections, and as a result, he waved the man's feelings off as attraction gone astray, nothing more and nothing less.

So now his head was constantly conflicted by thoughts of two Kuchiki's, and he wasn't sure who was winning the battle for his attention these days.

Without a doubt, he still loved Rukia. Though maybe he was a masochist, because while he wished he didn't, he couldn't imagine not.

Ichigo was many things, some of those idiosyncrasies being less appealing than others, but selfishness was not one of these qualities. Because of this, he could neither bring himself to vocalize his feelings, nor could he pull away completely from the happy pair.

Instead he was stuck in this limbo where he had little choice but to dutifully watch his best friends slow, uncensored courtship play out right before his eyes, and like the good protector he was, he smothered his feelings until they flooded his entrails. With no means of release, they kept filling him and filling him, and one day, he feared his cup would overflow.

For that reason, he was lucky that their division duties kept them all busy. It made it easier to become unnoticeably distant, only needing a fake smile and a half baked excuse of paperwork to create the space that had became necessary for his sanity.

Since his inauguration into the gotie as a lieutenant of the seventh division, it had always been set that Ichigo would become the new captain of the eighth after he put in some time learning the ropes, and Ichigo thought the day couldn't come soon enough, because then he'd have ample reason to widen that gap into a chasm. Until he could overcome these feelings, he was certain his mental well being hinged on this.

Not that it was much of an issue now, for Rukia and Renji were too drunk off each other's air to notice he was slowly dwindling, and though that left him frighteningly lonely and cold, he built his his house in such a loneliness. He lived there complacently, reveling in how the faulty floorboards of his constitution echoed through him, only underlining how hollow the space within his fleshy pillars had became.

Other than Byakuya, only Ishida noticed his tattered and misplaced feelings - the man had alway been rather attuned to the emotions of others - but Ishida rarely visited these days, and when he did, they both did their best to two step around the subject.

He was alone, unnoticed, and the deeper he sank into that isolation, the thicker his skin became, the more insulated and cold retaining it became. It was okay, he preferred it that way.

Really, he told himself, he didn't need anyone. Being alone, he could do that. If he could kill the Quincy king, this should be child's play. He'd be fine. Yeah… He'd be fine.

Only he could never say no to Rukia, because causing her genuine pain would hurt more than spending the rest of his days wantonly watching her in Renji's embrace. He would rather be forced to watch the pair make love on a loop than be the reason for Rukia's frown. So when she told him he had to go to a party she was having at the Kuchiki manor, lest he wanted to be slapped around, he was inclined to go. Despite her feisty yet typical threats, he could sense how important it was to her. It occurred to him that he may always be a martyr for Rukia's smiles.

 **xXx**

"W-wow, guys, that's amazing!" Ichigo said. At least, he thought he said it. The voice that came out didn't sound much like his own, and it seemed to be more of a robotic response than anything else, seeing as he was too shocked to really process the news.

"Can you believe it, Ichigo?" Renji beamed proudly, "I actually knocked Rukia up!"

A blushing Rukia unabashedly back handed him before wafting her eyes over to where Byakuya stood speaking to Juushiro.

"Renji! Nii-sama is right over there! Shut it!"

"I'm sorry, Ruk, but we created a baby! A whole baby!" Affectionately, he placed a hand on his expectant wife's stomach. "That's so rad."

That's what this gathering was for, the announcement of Rukia and Renji's first child. A way to celebrate with their friends and family the life their love created. It was beautiful, momentous, spectacular, and Ichigo thought he might throw up.

Honestly, he should've been prepared for this, but he couldn't believe it had happened so quickly. This shot right through his frozen heart like the wrath of a volcano geysering from the depths of his gut.

It's not like he deluded himself into thinking he ever had a chance, but there was a whole soul growing inside of Rukia, and while he watched Rukia's glow and Renji's triumphant glee, he so deeply wished it was him who had made a life with Rukia. He hated himself for his envy, but this felt too much like being slapped in the face with everything he'd never have.

He didn't think it was possible to feel more alone than he did at that very moment.

Like everyone else, he wanted so badly to be happy for the two, and in his own way, he was. Both had grown up in the holds of poverty and fought tooth and nail to make a life of their own. They were everyone's favorite success story, a beacon of hopefulness. They had made it. They had finally arrived! Mostly, they were living a dream they never thought would come into fruition, a dream they deserved. How could he not feel an inkling of happiness for them, two of his best friends?

If only it was enough to abate the wrenching agony that submerged him. He was trying to be strong, but he felt so, so weak as the water that filled him began to hit it's ceiling.

"Heh, you guys don't waste no time, do you?" Putting on a pained smile, he said, "You two are going to make great parents."

Without warning, Renji took Ichigo's hand and placed it on Rukia's tummy. "Feel your future godchild, Ichigo!"

Ichigo visibly gapped.

"Godchild?"

"Hell yeah! Who else would it be? You're the reason Rukia and me reconnected in the first place. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have a family."

Ichigo could feel it, the walls around him bloating from the pressure of his rain, and his breath was more like gasps that attempted to suck up enough air before he was pulled to bottom of this sorrowful abyss. It was too much, even for the protector of the Soul Society, because even a protector was just a man at the end of the day.

At some point he stopped breathing to encumber the tears swelling in his throat. He was getting dizzy from these conflict emotions and his lack of oxygen, and he knew he couldn't hold it together for much longer.

"If you try really hard, you can feel the little guys spiritual pressure," Renji informed.

Rukia rolled her eyes.

"I'm not even two months along and already people are putting their hand on my stomach." Ichigo noticed the way her scowl turned into that cute little smirk, and he had to stop himself from leaning in and tasting it. "How do you know it's a boy anyway?"

"Just a feeling," Renji said, grinning.

It was just the tiniest of things, but Ichigo could feel a hint of a pulse, and that was all it took for tears to pool in his eyes and start trailing down his cheeks.

"Woe, I know you're happy for us, but there's no need to get so sappy, Ichigo!"

"Yeah," Rukia smirked, "I knew you were a softy, but I didn't expect this."

Ichigo said nothing, because if he did, he knew all of the water that drowned him would come bursting out. His tears, his unrequited feelings, his selfish jealousy, all of it. Thankfully, someone spoke up for him.

"Kurosaki Ichigo," a steely voice drew his attention, and Ichigo never felt more grateful to hear the voice of Byakuya Kuchiki. "If you do not mind, I'd like to speak with you about an issue involving both of our divisions. Would you mind stepping into my garden with me?"

"Oh come on, Tachiou," Renji whined, "It's a party! Can't you save the work stuff for later?"

Byakuya sent his subordinate a reprimanding glare.

"Duty never takes a break, Renji. As a father, I'm sure you'll learn this soon enough." Turning back to Ichigo, he said, "Come."

With only a smile that seemed too forced to be anything but fake, Ichigo followed Byakuya. Not that the happy parents - to - be noticed one way or another. He didn't blame them. The sun shined too brightly in their world to see the rain clouds over the horizon.

As they walked down a long hallway, Ichigo let go of a long, jagged breath that was about as flimsy as he felt. A few more tears came out, and he pressed the back of his hands to his dewy eyes, as if he could halt them with the mere presence of his flesh.

By the time their silence trek came to an end, and they were standing amongst the expansive Kuchiki gardens, Ichigo had regained his wits.

The two just stood on the deck with a strained muteness filling the gaps between them. It was march, the onset of spring, and everything around them was in full bloom. The liveliness mocked him, and for once, he wanted the rain. It was a selfish thought, really, because the world should be smiling for Rukia, not crying for him.

Ichigo thought it was funny how, even when you're life felt as if it was decaying from the roots, the world kept spinning with or without you.

"Thanks for that," he muttered. "For noticing…"

Byakuya nodded in recognition, and like all the mannerism he displayed, it was calm and bordering on detached. Though his eyes, Ichigo noticed that they seemed almost careful.

"You seemed as if you needed someone to save you...for once."

Ichigo just returned the nod, not really knowing what to say. Maybe if he was not consumed by his own sea of sadness, he would have understood just how much he appreciated Byakuya in that moment.

"If you would like some solitude, you could stroll around the grounds. Or you are welcomed to say here with me, the choice is yours."

Solitude. That's all Ichigo seemed to have these days, and while at a time he thought he enjoyed it, it seemed he had only gotten use to it. In reality, he felt a level of isolation that scared him beyond what he thought capable. It seemed ceaseless, a never ending path in the midst of pitch blackness.

Only, if that was the case, than Byakuya was the moon, a celestial body that was born from the night and radiated through a darkness that threatened to swallow you whole. Though perhaps he wasn't as untouchable, or maybe he was, and maybe Ichigo liked it that way.

Around this man, he felt the stark opposite of alone, but Ichigo didn't know how he felt about that. In ways, he loved it, and in other ways, it frightened him just as much as the loneliness. Somehow, he felt as if he was betraying the misery he felt, as if he owed it something.

He still recognized that healing hurt, still he didn't know why, and still, he wouldn't ask Byakuya to explain, even if he was sure the man knew the reasons all too well.

Byakuya took up a lotus blossom position and pulled out a book from a fold in his kosode.

"I was coming to read, so either way, it does not matter."

And without much thought, he found himself perched beside the man. It seemed his body decided for him.

"What are you reading?"

Byakuya closed the book and held it cover side up. It was Kenzaburo Oe's novel, "The Changeling".

"Thats one of my favorite authors. I didn't know you read novels from the Living World."

"I would assume there is much you do not know about me, Kurosaki Ichigo."

Ichigo chewed on his lip shamefully as he recalled their night three months ago. He wanted to apologize, but before he could, Byakuya said, "Rukia told me of this specific author, but I often pick up an assortment of books when I go on missions."

The noble actually did enjoy the book, but he wasn't being completely forthcoming. It wasn't a lie, but rather, it was Byakuya's cunning way of giving Ichigo a reason. Amidst frivolous conversation, Rukia told him that this specific author was, in fact, Ichigo's favorite, and because he knew Ichigo needed an excuse to let someone care for him, even when that was exactly what the young man wanted, Byakuya used it as a weapon for his cause. He was not trying to manipulate Ichigo, because he really wanted nothing from him. He was simply opening a door, and it was up to Ichigo if he wanted to walk through it.

A wistful sigh tumbled from Ichigo. "I miss reading. It's not so easy getting books here like it was back home."

After a brief moment, Byakuya made a considering noise.

"My manor has the largest known library in all of Soul Society. You are more than welcomed to come and go as you please." A pause. "As long as you do not destroy anything."

Ichigo gave an airy scoff, and he found the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement. "Its people I don't respect, not books."

"At least some things are sacred," Byakuya teased, managing to make Ichigo smile, if only for a moment.

Even if, at the time, he wasn't sure if he meant it or not, Ichigo said, "Thanks for the offer. I'll definitely consider it."

For sometime, the two just spoke on lighthearted subjects, most of which pertained to books, and during this time, Ichigo seemed to forget all of the baggage he could never seem to unpack.

He didn't know how he felt about this.

 **xXx**

At first, Ichigo had no intention of going to the Kuchiki library, but despite his efforts to navigate his wondering thoughts away from the mansion and the noble who reside within the sumptuous estate, something stronger than his own obstinate will power led him there anyway.

He couldn't tell you exactly when or why, but he started becoming a regular face in Byakuya's home. So much so, the attendants were already preparing him tea and dinner as soon as his staunch pressure was sensed heading towards the grounds.

For a while, Byakuya and him would only make trifling small talk, little hospitable pleasantries before Ichigo was left to his own devices, but after a while, those conversations became longer and more in depth, and before he realized what was happening, Ichigo was no longer coming for the books.

Six months into this arrangement, and he was spending almost all of his free time at the Kuchiki manor, or more accurately, he was spending almost all his free time with Byakuya.

And what an enlightening six months it was. He began to learn so much about the noble, something new and surprising everyday it seemed. He learned that, while both sister and brother shared a penchant for atypical subject matters when it came to their art, Byakuya also painted some of the most expressively beautiful watercolors Ichigo ever had the pleasure of taking in.

They'd spend their days speaking on a wide spectrum of subjects, from politics to childhood antics. He learned that Byakuya, though raised with servants, had an affinity for cooking that he inherited from his dad, and that most every flower plotted in the main garden was placed there by Byakuya's two dexterous hands. Sometimes, in their rarest yet most earnest moments since the wedding, they'd even talk about Ichigo's unrequited love or Hisana, and Ichigo felt more real around Byakuya than he did around anyone else.

The gifts came a little less, but still frequently, and neither talked of this, nor did they speak on the night they shared at Rukia's wedding. Ichigo was thankful for small miracles, because he wasn't ready to confront all the things that went unsaid between the two even though those things seemed to be added upon daily. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be. Though while Ichigo seemed to constantly dance around the elephant in the room, Byakuya neither avoided the subject, nor did he prompt it. With great patience, he simply allowed for things to fall as they would, and sometimes, Ichigo got the feeling Byakuya was waiting on him to be ready. For now, he was just content in the time they spent together and what they learned about each other in those nights they spent strolling through his thriving garden.

Though, there was one thing he learned that scared Ichigo beyond comprehension. The similarities that Byakuya and Rukia shared neither caused him pain, nor joy anymore. In fact, whenever he'd see her face or habits in Byakuya's own, which was extremely rare these days, it was never as an extension of Rukia manifested through the noble, and something about that became hard to swallow for Ichigo.

These days, Ichigo only seemed to see Byakuya and his quirks as components of the special man he'd grown all too fond of, and though that should've been a good thing, nothing was ever quite so simple for Ichigo.

It only troubled him more when something perplexing started to occur. Well, perhaps not perplexing, but conflicting. Gestures. Small little acts of thoughtfulness that alone seemed like innocent and arbitrary instances, acts the noble would be so nonchalant about that Ichigo almost believed them to be as casual as they were presented. However, Ichigo, despite having the density of a black hole, couldn't ignore what these gestures alluded too.

For instance, one day Ichigo got rather sick with a strand of the flu that only souls are susceptible too, and Byakuya sent over a private healer equipped with a special herbal remedy that was nearly impossible to get one's hands on. The fourth division had been trying to cultivate the right plants for the concoction for years, all without success. Or when Ichigo's sisters came to visit him, and Byakuya insisted they stay at the mansion, saying the cramped barracks of the seventh division was no place for children.

There were also smaller happenings, tiny things that one could miss if they weren't paying attention, but Ichigo seemed to give most of his attention to Byakuya these days. Like how Byakuya vigilantly listened to Ichigo's words and the things he enjoyed. If he so much as mentioned a dish he really liked, it would be no sooner that Byakuya's chefs were cooking it for dinner, or if he spoke about a book he wanted to read that Byakuya didn't have, he would make sure a squad member picked it up on their next mission and brought it back, and it would suddenly show up in Ichigo's office.

They were little things, small gesture that, when put together, formed truths that even Ichigo couldn't turn a blind eye to. Still, that didn't mean he couldn't put his own delusional twist to these realities.

Ichigo found out some things about himself in these past few months also. Well he would have, if his denial wasn't as boundless as the edges of the universe. He knew these things, but it was similar to looking at the sky and seeing a blatant blue, only to say it was purple. The first thing he learned about himself was that he was rather good at lying to himself

Byakuya listened to Ichigo. He watched, saw, digested, and acted accordingly, expressing his care, and dare he say it, love. Ichigo had known since that night all those months ago that Byakuya harbored romantic sentiments for him, and even though he did all this and more without the slightest need for acknowledgment, Ichigo convinced himself that the reasons were anything but pure. That Byakuya fervently _did_ for Ichigo out of a desire for him to return a love that Ichigo never would. That if he ever came to terms with the fact his efforts were all futile, the genuinely random deeds of care would become not so genuine or random anymore. That was the first lie he told himself.

The fallacies in this "truth" were blinding. For one, Ichigo would never continue a friendship with a man who only did for him out of manipulation. Byakuya never lorded these actions above Ichigo, never acted as if the young man owed him anything, and he especially never spoke on possibilities of romance. If anything, he selflessly hide his heart away, because caring for Ichigo was more important than holding him would ever be. Maybe Ichigo couldn't comprehend what he had done to deserve such things, or maybe he just wanted to vindicate his reasons for denouncing any romantic affection for the noble. This was the second lie he told himself.

Ichigo always had his reasons. He'd tell himself the feelings were merely platonic, they'd never work, or his favorite farcical excuse in his arsenal, that he was still in love with Rukia. Never mind the fact that Ichigo thought on Rukia less and less every day until he barely thought about the girl with any sense of sorrow or longing at all. Never mind that Byakuya picked up his bags and claimed occupancy in the spaces Rukia once resided, or the way he'd smile stupidly at the daily pop up thoughts of his banter with the noble or thoughts on all the little eccentric, endearing things the other would do - Seriously, the people in his division were considering an intervention, because the only thing strong enough to swap the permanent scowl of Ichigo's for a dopey grin must've been alcohol. Though they never considered love - and let's not even touch upon how his time with Byakuya was the highlight of his days, so much so that he'd find himself staring just as longingly at the clock on the wall as he would stare at the noble in his company. It especially didn't matter how he'd catch himself reminiscing on the way Byakuya's lips felt on his own, only to blush furiously at the state of arousal the memory brought him to.

He was as stubborn on this matter as he was with everything else in his life. He was still in love with Rukia. Yep, absolutely. This is the second thing he learned about himself.

Ichigo had a hard time letting go. Surely it stemmed from his all enduring obstinance, a quality that Byakuya told him was his best and his worst, and he was right. If Ichigo let it, his stubborn ways could be his own worst enemy. Maybe if he could admit it to himself, he could tell you why the potentiality that he was not in love with Rukia the way he once was sat wrong in his gut like food poisoning, why his body regurgitated the idea like an automatic survival mechanism.

Surely it had something to do with why not seeing the girl in Byakuya's features anymore put him on edge, or why his feelings for the noble felt like a betrayal, or why healing hurts so much, and the fact he couldn't bring himself to ask Byakuya why.

Honestly, all of this self denial sat right on the tip of his tongue, the crown of his head, so much so that Ichigo himself would roll his eyes at the bull shit excuses that reflexively spewed from his mouth as he spoke them to his sword spirits. Zangetsu sure didn't miss a chance to take a jab at the lies he'd tell himself .

Still, if you asked him, almost like a practiced response, he'd tell you he still loved Rukia. He'd tell you Byakuya was just a friend. He'd tell you the sky was purple.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys. So I lied, this is not the last chapter. The last one got to be too long, so I divided it into two**

 **I replied to comments at the bottom.**

 **Good vibes ~ Ashes**

 **xXx**

With only a month before he was scheduled to be officially promoted to captain of squad eighth, Ichigo found himself alone in his division.

Iba, captain of the seventh, was on a solo mission while the rest of the squad members were either training with seated officers, performing konso, or on guard rotation.

The typically bustling, rambunctious division felt like a ghost town, not that Ichigo minded. He used the solitude to his advantage and buried himself in paperwork he'd need to finish before he left to the eighth. Dedicated he was, sometimes Ichigo could get lost in his duties, much like he'd been for the last two days.

This was probably what prompted one of Byakuya's attendants to bring him a platter of gourmet sushi with a personal note from the nobleman. In his pristine calligraphy, Byakuya scolded his "childish" manner of neglecting his own needs, saying he couldn't take care of anyone properly when he did not heed his own well being. The note also told him to bath, because the noble knew him well enough to know that, when Ichigo got in these moods, he forgot to do anything beyond absolutely necessary functions, and nobody needed to be victimized by his odor.

Ichigo couldn't help but to smirk around a mouth full of sushi as he read the note. He could practically hear the noble's reprimanding baritone floating in his head.

"That guy," he chuckled.

Mentally, he told himself he'd shower after he ate and continued to delve into the delicious and rather expensive expanse of sushi.

While doing so, he looked out of his division window and noticed how the approaching winter seemed to tint everything with hues of blues and grays. It was only November, but the cold had already began to set in. It reminded him of Byakuya, the way everything started to decay beautifully. Surprisingly, winter was Byakuya's favorite season, as it reminded him of a childhood making snowmen with his father.

Ichigo thought he'd drag Byakuya out on the first snow of the season so they could do the same. He, too, missed spending hours in the snow with his sisters, and he considered the idea of inviting them up so they could all enjoy it together. They could teach Byakuya what it felt like to be the victim of a good old Kurosaki snowball fight.

His fingers brushed absentmindedly at the fabric of his scarf as his thoughts drifted happily. He didn't even notice the smile that claimed his face or the swelling that made a home in his chest.

As soon as it became cold enough, Ichigo had started to wear the garment once more, as he silently knew it was from Byakuya. Just like he silently knew why Byakuya didn't leave him these gifts marked, because the noble understood that Ichigo wasn't ready to face such a blatant manifestation of his care.

Amidst his reverie, Ichigo had somehow stumbled across the thought - fantasy- of kissing Byakuya in the snow, their fervent caresses being akin to basking in front of a fireplace. He thought of seeing Byakuya's grumpy frown melt into a rare smile under the warmth of such affection and how angelic the noble would look with his raven locks splayed out against the contrasting white of winter's frost as Ichigo hovered above him.

That smooth and lulling warmth turned torrid, and it assaulted him like the unforgiving crashing of waves. He bit his lips as that sweet, gooey feeling morphed into heady breaths and blushed cheeks before he shook his head in ridicule.

' _What the hell am I going on about anyway? I shouldn't be thinking of Byakuya that way. I think that kiss messed me up a little.'_

Once Ichigo ate his fill, he stood, stretched, and headed towards the door, only to be drawn back by a feeling in his gut that wouldn't calm. It refused to let him leave the office.

He touched the scarf thoughtfully, and from his position facing the door, he looked over his shoulder.

Around the room were little pieces of Byakuya. Incense were burning slowly, and every surface seemed to be canvassed by books he'd borrowed from the noble. On the wall above his desk was one of the noble's watercolors, of which no one in his division knew who painted. Ichigo always smirked in mystery when people marveled at the picture, feeling privileged by these little unknown parts of Byakuya the he held dearly like keepsakes.

There was a banzai tree Byakuya given him for his birthday that Ichigo vigilantly cared for, and despite his black thumb, the poor thing managed to survive. In his draw was bars of chili flavored dark chocolate. By his door, Zangetsu sat adorned with a strap made of crimson hued, wooden beads and a bronze clasp with a phoenix emblem. On his desk was top notch stationary and a hand blown tea kettle to replace the shoddy one his whole division shared. Hung from a coat rack was a beautiful, midnight blue haori made specifically for winter. All around him, scattered about, Byakuya's presence was everywhere, inescapable.

His whole life, it was riddled by Byakuya and his comfort, and at how happy the man had made him these past several months, with not just gifts, but all the heart that such gifts spoke of, with just his compassionate companionship, Ichigo's eyes began to tell his secrets, forcing him to blink rapidly in hopes of stopping tears that formed in his corneas. However, something wouldn't let him off that easy. Something clutched him and demanded he looked. That he _saw._

His chest was bursting like a firecracker, and his body felt like a house of cards, but this tenacious force, it wouldn't let him look away from the truth that sat transparently in his space. It dared Ichigo to not acknowledged the fact Byakuya Kuchiki had crept his way into his world, into his everyday, into his thoughts, and mostly, into his heart. It called him a coward, a blind fool. It sat on his chest and glued open his eyes. It held him hostage, demanding that he realized Byakuya gave him the other half of his heart back. Or more accurately, he reminded Ichigo that it never really left.

He cringed as he forced his breathing to slow.

' _I...Byakuya...that guy...damn him. He's been great, and I've been…'_

' _ **An ass?'**_ Hollow Zangetsu finished.

' _No one asked you! What are you doing in my thoughts anyway?'_

' _ **It gets boring in here. I can't help it, especially when you have steamy ones like you just did,'**_ the spirit cackled.

Ichigo just growled in rebuttal before he found his self able to close everything off.

All of these little things, thinking on them too long was like throwing sand in his eyes.

' _...Maybe… one day...It's just, I don't think I'd be so opposed if I didn't feel anything for Rukia still. It wouldn't be fair to start something with him if I still have feelings for his sister, right?'_

' _Then again, how fair is this? Byakuya gives me everything, and the one thing I can give him that he doesn't have, I won't. I don't even consider what he's feelings, being around someone he loves when they don't even acknowledgment him. Like how I felt about Rukia...felt? I mean feel.'_

Ichigo couldn't stand the company of himself anymore, so he headed towards the showers in hopes of washing himself clean of these conflicting thoughts.

He turned his back on these blinding realities.

Once he was showered and dressed in a clean uniform, Ichigo headed back to his office within the division. Only, at two familiar pressures, he stopped outside of his door, not needing to worry about dampening his own since no one could feel his after he transcended during the war.

"I thought that orange head would be here!" he heard Rukia say. "I asked Nii-sama if he knew where he was, and he told me he's been locked up in his office and that I probably shouldn't bother him."

Next he heard a scoff that Ichigo easily identified as Renjis. "He would know, wouldn't he?"

Ichigo fretted his brow at that.

"Why do you say it like that!?" Rukia's voice lowered to an almost inaudible pitch. "I think it's great."

"I didn't mean anything bad by it! It's just, I never would have thought about pairing those two in a million years." There was a long, tense silence. "I'm glad though, because if they are sweet on each other, that means everything will go back to normal."

' _What the hell..'_

"But we don't know for sure," Rukia muttered.

"Have you seen this note. Geez, this is the closest to a love note I think Taichou is capable of writing. Plus, he acts pretty much the same, but I can tell, he's _lighter_."

"Lighter?"

"Yeah, you know," his voice inflected humorously, "drunk on all that Ichigo lovin'"

Ichigo's face flushed, and he almost barged in, but the sound of Rukia's infamous back hand and Renji whining made him reconsider.

"Well I hope you're right."

"If you're still concerned, maybe we should leave em' be for a while longer."

"He's our friend," she yelled.

"You don't think I know that? This was your idea in the first place!"

Ichigo heard Rukia stuttered, something he knew meant she was frustrated. "I- well-I- what else was I supposed to do?! I didn't want to hurt him anymore than I already have."

"And you think I do? I wish you never overheard those damn nosey attendants gossiping."

' _Byakuya's attendants? What did they hear?'_

"Oh what? So we could just ignore it and keep unintentionally hurting our friend?"

"No! It's just complicated, alright. There's no right way to handle it. For all we know, keeping our distance is just upsetting him more." More timidly, Renji said, "It's not like that's what I want. I can't blame the guy for being in love with you."

Ichigo had to clasp down on his tongue to hamper a gasp from giving him away. His jaw locked, and like sliding tectonic plates, the pressure signaled an impending earthquake. His whole body hissed and crackled like a volcano on the verge of erupting. Inside, a tornado ravaged him. Ichigo was a natural disaster waiting to happen.

"I know," Rukia sighed, "but I don't even think he's noticed we've distanced ourselves between spending time with Nii-sama and our division duties. That's why I thought, maybe he was over it, and we could all spend time together like the old times."

In a flurry of shunpo, Ichigo hurried from his barracks. He had heard more than enough, and even though he hadn't indulged in the numbing bliss of intoxication since Rukia's wedding, Ichigo didn't even have to make the conscious decision to move towards the pub.

He wouldn't be able to fight anyone right now without the potential of destroying half of the Seritie, or worse, his opponent, but he needed to do something with these nerves before they unleashed themselves in a hostile way.

For a while, he downed cup after cup of sake as if he could out drink these feelings if only he inhaled the liquor quickly enough. At first, he thought about nothing, and he just let the tingling heat of the beverage wash over him, churning and mixing with the anger that boiled his blood, turning into a dangerous concoction that did very little to placate Ichigo's already thoughtless tendency.

Although, after severely jugs of sake, he found the liquor lubricating his thoughts, making them come freely, if not senselessly. He thought maybe he could find the reason for his outrage at the bottom of one of these bottles, but at first, he only felt an anger that did not seem to understand itself.

First, he considered it was the way his two best friends had chosen how and what he could handle. Or that they could see his blooming feelings for Byakuya but could never see his feelings for Rukia, because they simply didn't want to. They were in denial, just like him.

Just like him…

He wasn't sure if the liquor was making him see things more clearly or less, but for the first time, it seemed the light of truth shined brightly enough to break the surface of blue he was drowning in. Finally, he could see it, something other than this oxygen stealing darkness that filled him and kept him sequestered. The light, it was drawing him to the surface, imploring air on him. It was C.P.R and life saving chest compressions, only Ichigo wasn't too sure he wanted to be save. Maybe he wanted to belong to the clutches of this ocean's fathomage.

Rukia was right. She was absolutely, one hundred percent correct. He hadn't even noticed their distance, _her_ distance. The girl he supposedly loved, he didn't even think about her these days, not really. Not anymore than he'd think of any other friend. Byakuya was all he saw, the light that got through, his moon, his lighthouse, the mouth to mouth pushing air into his flooded lungs.

But Ichigo was suppose to belong to this blue. He belonged to the sempiternal void of drowning. His unwanted love, it was like once precious items from a boat wreckage that now littered the seafloor, lost and kept by no one.

Only Byakuya wanted it, and Ichigo so dearly wanted his want. He wanted his life, his air, that patient attention, and the feel of cool, alabaster fingertips reviving him with loving touches. He wanted Byakuya. So why did he always languishing away in Rukia's unreturned feelings? As if his leg were caught on a fishing net or tendrils of seaweed, the surface was always out of reach. Why didn't he simply reach down and untangle himself, and if he didn't, did that not mean he still loved Rukia in someway? It didn't feel like it, so why? He just couldn't understand his own actions or wants, and that only conflicted him more.

His fingers tapped restlessly on the porcelain of his glass as he chewed on his lip, almost breaking the skin. He felt itchy, and his eyes shifted with uncertainty. He wanted answers, and being driven by these nonsensical, liquor - drowned thoughts, he decided there was only one way to figure himself out for once and for all.

After downing the rest of his jug, he wiped his lips, slammed the bottle down, and went to the only person who could really see him well enough to give him answers.

 **xXx**

"Ichigo?" Byakuya said, lifting himself up from the desk in his home office. He moved around to the front and gave Ichigo a measured look.

Though his vision was hazy, Ichigo would have to be blind to not notice the Kuchiki's lord's imposing beauty. His lithe yet supple frame was hugged by a plum sleeping robe, and the glossy silk material cascaded from the curves of his body in risky ways, drawing his eyes down the fabric draped plains of the noble's form.

Ichigo found himself with a want to explore Byakuya's ivory stretches in hopes of discovering things no one else had.

One side of his robe dipped slightly, revealing a sliver of protruding collar bone coming from smooth, strapping shoulders.

Ichigo wondered how it would taste. Could it possibly be sweeter than the noble's mouth? Could he taste all the answers he sought? Would the succulent sensation on his tongue taste like certainly?

He wondered if the skin would taunt or relax under the penetration of his teeth. He wondered if Byakuya would scream for him.

He'd do anything to see the noble's passion fall from his mouth without restraint, to flood him until there was no skin too thick nor walls to stymie that could control such a cardinal pressure. Ichigo wanted to be Byakuya's undoing.

Byakuya's fingers slid down the fabric in an almost slow motion to situate his garment, and Ichigo watched in unabashed intent, his heavy, fixed eyes trailing along with every creeping inch of those nimble digits. With dilated pupils shifting rapidly, Ichigo took in everything, and he wondered what feats those fingers were capable of.

It was witchcraft, he thought, the way every move Byakuya made flowed with the dexterity of a brush in the hands of a master artist. Even five minutes before midnight, standing amidst paperwork and with lines of puzzlement scrunching at his face, Byakuya was a walking, talking art installation. Even the slightest twitch of his body was poetry in motion, and Ichigo couldn't stand it. He wanted to ruffle him up, unravel him from the inside out, because no one's body should be able to do those things, cause these kind of reactions.

The way the material of his robe clung to his body like it was soaked in water, it gave scrutiny to the noble's tantalizing contours. The way his feathery, damp hair hung freely over his distinguished features and the way he nibbled ever so slightly at his pretty frowning lips in confusion was enough stimulus to prod something completely animalistic in the young man. Yes, it was black magic. It had to be, the way it ensnared Ichigo, implored sin on him.

He was under the man's spell, and more wonderfully, the noble didn't even understand how tempting he was. In fact, Ichigo thought he felt more danger emanating from Byakuya than he would with the man's blade at his neck, because he would cut himself open and give the noble everything for just one bite of him, but knowing Byakuya, he'd never expect nor want that of Ichigo. He'd give himself freely, and that was even more beautiful.

Byakuya stepped forward and grasped Ichigo's chin lightly between those hexing fingers to claim Ichigo's roaming glare with his own concerned one.

"Ichigo," he asked, "are you okay?" He ran a tentative glare over the man. "Are you drunk?"

At the man's touch, lust settled deeper into his skin, like a tangible entity that sat heavily on his chest. Ichigo's eyes sharpened and became foreboding in their thirst. He was going to devour this man.

Simultaneously, Ichigo captured Byakuya's wrist, held it in his possessive grasp, and wound an arm around the noble's slim waist, demolishing any space between the two as he clumsily took the noble's mouth as his spoils.

Completely taken aback, Byakuya's body went stiff, and inertia found him in the way it found a bumbling greenhorn, something Byakuya Kuchiki was certainly not. It didn't take long for his body and mind to fall in line and sink into Ichigo's frantic applications.

As Byakuya clutched Ichigo's forearm and pulled him closer, like the two could not possibly be close enough, Ichigo savagely pressed into the man's mouth with his own, swapping intimacy in the way people swap secrets.

Ichigo wanted to plunge into the man's depths until all uncertainty was lost. He wanted to delve into his every nook and cranny, burrow into his hollows. He wanted to find himself inside of Byakuya. Like a looking glass, he could see himself reflected in the noble, and somewhere within this beautiful man, he'd get the answers he sought.

All Ichigo knew for sure was, in this moment, they were only two people in the world.

When Ichigo's tongue glided over Byakuya's neck, the warm, sake scented wetness burning at the nobles flushed skin, his thoughts came back to him.

"Ichigo," he managed breathlessly, "we shouldn't…"

"Mhh, you're so damn delicious," Ichigo muttered into the curve of Byakuya's neck, "just like I knew you'd be." The almost inaudible whimper that resounded from the noble made Ichigo's body flicker with embers of intensity.

"Make more sounds like that," he said, releasing the nobles wrist. The things he wanted to do to Byakuya's body required both hands, and as such, he yanked the robe further down the man's shoulder, scratching at the skin on the way before he sunk his teeth into Byakuya's unblemished blade. He earned a soft albeit encouraging moan for his efforts.

"Ichigo..stop…"

Briefly, Ichigo stopped his probing and moved his mouth up to the noble's lob. "I don't understand," he whispered, "I thought...you wanted this, that you love me. Am I wrong?"

Byakuya's eyes widened marginally, and he firmly took hold of Ichigo's forearms to push him back and look into his eyes. The noble's own were rather tender and sincere.

"You are not," he confessed, "and that is why I do not want this right now. You are much too intoxicated to be making any rational decision. You are merely running off of instinct, and that is not telling to how you feel. If you gave your body to me, it should not be in this way."

In all honesty, Byakuya was right. Ichigo was too consumed by mounds of frustration, alcohol, uncertainty and lust, only making him more thoughtless than usual. His careless words and actions did not depict the man he was or his true feelings and thoughts. Perhaps that is what caused him to speak such crass words that, if he was sober, he would have known he didn't mean.

Seething, Ichigo pulled himself away and said, "This is what you wanted, right? That's why you did all the stuff you did for me, so you could have me! Well I'm right here, god damn it."

Byakuya's features widened, and his body went stiff like rigor mortis. His chest swelled and it felt hot and sticky, as if he was crying on the inside. Around him, everything went humid, and he became hot for an entirely different reason. His knuckles whitened, jaw locked, and his eyes could cut diamonds with their severity, but Ichigo, being too swallowed up in himself, didn't seem to notice the change as anything all too telling.

Bracingly, two hands clutched the fabric of Ichigo's kosodo, and he was pushed back into Byakuya's desk. He looked up into the noble's eyes which darkened like billows of storm clouds rolling across his steady gaze, and Ichigo couldn't read the man at all.

"If this is what you truly think is right, take me," Byakuya uttered lowly.

This was all the invitation Ichigo needed to pull Byakuya back into his arms and into his hungry lips.

"That's what I'm talking about," he muttered before making quick work of Byakuya's sleeping garment. Like the present he was, Ichigo anxiously ripped at the wrapping to see what was inside.

Byakuya, too, yanked at Ichigo's uniform, and striped him of all his barrings in a manner that lacked his usual grace.

In a swift string of motions, Ichigo propelled all items off Byakuya's desk before replacing the papers and inkwell with the noble himself, and their collided bodies hit the wood with a bang.

Their lips never separated and their hands never slowed as they grazed over each others bodies hastily. In a whirlwind of mutual frustration, they touched each other with neglect, neither giving the time nor attention that comes from a deep love and earnest want to know the others body.

It was not a matter of if they loved each other or not, because this tryst knew nothing of affection. They were feeding off each other's hostility and picking at each others festered emotions as they clawed at the other. Like monster's, they ate each other with no intention of making love but inciting violence.

Amidst slapping flesh and needy, jutting limbs, they took turns pinning the other down, leaving little bruises and teeth marks behind as evidence of their acrimony. Together they used the other as retainers for their built up conflict, ravaging their own body's by the other's hand. In this moment of sweat dripping, chest heaving, wonderlust, they were merely weapons of self mutilation, a means to an end, tools, even when they both meant so much more to the other.

Ichigo began to push himself into Byakuya with a perilous abandonment, earning him a wince from the man lying beneath him.

"Fool, you must prepare me. I have never been with a man myself, and I at least know that," he said, his eye's low yet almost gleaming as he slowly moved to pull a bottle of scented oils from his top draw.

"Right," Ichigo muttered before he fumbled with the bottle and coated two fingers.

Being as inexperienced and desire driven as he was, Ichigo's sloppy preparation made the experience painful for the noble, and when Ichigo's sizable girth slid into him, he had to bite down on his lip to hold back a yelp at the throbbing ache.

He closed his eyes and let out a shuddered breath. When he opened them, Ichigo's worried ones were looking back into his own.

"Are you okay?"

In response, the noble pulled Ichigo down by his nape and kissed him desperately.

Separating minutely, his voice almost trembled. "This is what you wanted, so finish what you started, Ichigo."

With that, Ichigo started on his enthusiastic rhythm, driving his hips with a bumbling urgency. When he finally found the nobles prostate - though completely by accident - arousal flooded him once more. Byakuya was grateful that he reached his peak without much effort after that, but equally as disappointed that Ichigo, as an effect of the alcohol, had not. So dearly, he wished for this whole mess to end. In fact, it was only the want to prove a point to both Ichigo and himself that caused him to agree in the first place. That and a much needed release of tension.

That's what caused him to gain the upper hand and straddle Ichigo, using a much greater finesse when rocking the man to his brink of pleasure.

"So rash. Like always, my skills are superior to yours, Kurosaki Ichigo."

Ichigo's member twitched at the words. He was dazzled by the beauty of the man writhing atop him.

"Then teach me, Byakuya."

As the noble rode him with a scrupulous application, and his spiritual pressure purged him of the liquor clouding his mind, Ichigo admired the man he'd came to want in every sense of the meaning. He had been a fool, because even though he still couldn't tell you why he had such a difficult time letting go of his unreturned love, it didn't matter. Though he was unsure of when exactly it happened, he had fallen out of love with Rukia and in love with Byakuya. In that moment, he was baffled that it had been so hard to let go of, because there was no contest, no choice to made. From now on, he'd chose Byakuya's light over the suffocating blue every time.

He wanted the noble to have all of his time, his scowls, his sweet nothings and romantic sentiments. He wanted Byakuya to have all of his thoughtless moments and his golden ones. He wanted to share a life with the noble, and in a way, he already did. It just took him a long time to realize it. Too long.

Too damn long.

With these waves of realizations and pleasure came waves of guilt, ones that crashed over him with merciless tenacity. Ichigo noticed the ways Byakuya's ivory was blemished with shaded of blacks, blues and reds. The noble was riddled with tiny marks that practically screamed the veracity of their existence. These were not marks created out of a trusting of one's body and soul to another, but a misuse of body, and even more frightening, Ichigo could tell the noble's scar count well surpassed his own.

Where he should of touched Byakuya with all the affection that comes from strength of love, with the tender approach one utilizes when caring for such a work of art as the Kuchiki lord, he had been careless in his handling of the noble. He had be rough and unfeeling, touching the man without the heart of love but with only the lust of belligerence.

" _ **I have never been with a man myself, and I at least know that."**_

Ichigo's whole body recoiled dreadfully at the memory of those grey eyes beseeching him to, just for a moment, consider, to slow down and touch him correctly, gingerly, with the devotion and adoration that a lover should have when being gifted such an honor as access to a place never before claimed by another.

Even though their joining was consensual, it felt as if he stole something away from Byakuya, as if he stole something away from themselves. He took a moment that should've have been beautiful and full of meaning and truncated it into something erotically vacuous. In the blur of their heat, Ichigo could barely remember their first time together.

With the noble still moving astride his length, Ichigo sat up, and with one hand he cupped the man's cheek, using his thumb to draw circles on the petal soft skin. He ran his other hand down the man's spine, administering soothing caresses.

Byakuya slowed his movements and gave Ichigo a weary look. It was a look filled with both sorrow and anger, a sorrow and anger Ichigo had put there, and they chared him. He could feel those eyes burning his insides.

With deep yet gentle kisses, Ichigo tried to pour all the love and affection he had withheld into their meeting lips, and when he felt that love blooming in the caverns of his belly, it was met by his instant release.

Ichigo's love felt almost palpable as it flood Byakuya's insides, and he thought that such a tender moment of authentic affection was almost enough to wash away the grime that sullied their first time together. Almost, but there were still thing said and realizations had that they could not simply undo with one melting kiss.

Ichigo released his lips lock on Byakuya's, but he kept his familiar touch on the man's cheek. He felt tears prickle his eyes at the guarded glare that stared back at him.

"Did I hurt you?" he whispered. "I was so...rough when I entered you. I didn't even…" his voice cracked from the onslaught of tears gathering in his throat. "I didn't think...I'm so sorry, Byakuya."

The noble took no time in removing himself from Ichigo and using a handkerchief to wipe himself clean. Still atop the desk, Ichigo watched in silent anticipation as Byakuya donned and preened himself. When he was done, he looked out the only window in the room and let his eyes focused on the glowing celestial body lighting up the dark.

"Physically, I am fine, but it is time for you to take your leave, Kurosaki Ichigo."

Everything about that sentence ate at Ichigo, the request for him to leave, the implications of hurt hidden between the line, the use of his full name and its cold, almost apathetic delivery, but mostly, the way Byakuya wouldn't even look at him. Right then and there, Byakuya felt as distant as the moon, and all Ichigo wanted was him near.

He hopped up from the desk and grabbed his clothes on the way, though he did not bother to dress himself. "Leave? Byakuya...what about us?"

"Us?" Byakuya echoed, the hollowness of his voice grating against Ichigo's ear drums. "There is no us. You said so yourself, I was only doing for you out of a want to possess you. Now that I have claimed my victory, I have no use for you."

Though Ichigo's eyes hardened, he couldn't refute the truth of the tears that trickled down his face. He had really said that, hadn't he? When it came to love, he was like a stumbling toddler, just learning to crawl, but still, he never thought he'd fall flat on his face so many times, and he didn't want that to be the reason he lost one of the most important people in his life. If he'd be willing, Ichigo wanted to hold Byakuya's hand through these wobbly movements. He wanted Byakuya to teach him what it meant to love someone, because god did he love Byakuya. However, love was skill just like anything else, but Ichigo would be an eager, retentive student under his tutelage if Byakuya would only let him. If he was being honest, the noble had already been unintentionally giving him lessons since the night of Rukia's wedding.

"I-I didn't mean that! Just like I know you don't mean it right now."

Quickly, he dressed himself, and when Byakuya had still said nothing, he reached out to clasp the man's forearm.

"Byakuya, say somethi-"

"Do not touch me!" Byakuya demanded, his body taken by subtle quivers. Ichigo could feel the way he fought desperately for every last inch of his composure. "Leave. Now."

Ichigo's heart was thrumming at twice the normal rate while his blood sloshed rapidly through his veins. A raw panic shook him to such a degree that he thought such a weak vessel could not contain it. He was bursting from the seams, and this felt so similar to losing his mom, because he was watching what existed between him and Byakuya wither away and die, and just like before, it was all his fault. Like the same powerless child he once was, he wanted so badly to reach out for the man so he could tell Ichigo what to do, how to fix his mistakes.

"By-Byakuya," he stammered, "you see me better than anyone, and you know I can sometimes be thoughtless and rash. I'm not saying that makes it okay. I'm just saying that, you know I can be better than this too. I am better than this!" Confidently, he proclaimed, "I'll be better for you. Let me show you that!"

After so long of being silent, Ichigo didn't think Byakuya was going to say anything at all. Until finally, he said, "It is true that I know this, but I have to wonder if you see me, Kurosaki. I have loved two people who did not return that sentiment, and both times, I bore that pain because I simply wanted to bring them some happiness, to be by their side in some way. While it is true I considered that you may have returned my feelings but were not ready, I never wished to possess you, but to only love you." A pause. "At least with Hisana, she acknowledge my feelings and was not so imprudent with them. She especially did not Insult my virtue and taint my intentions."

"I didn't mean it, By-"

"That is not the point. If tonight highlights anything, it is that your rashness leads to thoughtlessness. Perhaps your emotions are out running your good sense, and I will not allow myself to fall victim to your fickleness."

"I've loved you for a while now, Byakuya…" he uttered, his voice dripping with melancholy and self loathing. "I...don't know why I had such a hard time letting go of all the things that never happened between Rukia and me. God knows, I really wish I did. Maybe then I could give you some reason for why I needed to get wasted when I realized that I had stopped thinking of her a long time ago and started seeing you...only you."

Ichigo pulled at his messy hair and shook his head hopelessly.

"...Maybe I wouldn't be standing here hating myself for how badly I fucked up, how badly I hurt you... Or I wouldn't be scared to death that I'm going to lose you for good...Just," his voice broke into a pleading sob, and his eyes were misty and bright, "... _please_ don't say this is it for us. I don't want to imagine my life without you."

The nobleman closed his eyes against the tears the broke through the years of rigid self discipline. For Ichigo only, he felt so weak.

"Just go, Kurosaki Ichigo." It was all he could manage at the moment.

Even if it went against everything that felt right, if Byakuya wanted him to walk away, he would, because just once tonight, he wanted to think about the noble's feelings over his own. He didn't think it mattered much now, but it was the least he could do.

"Fine, I'll leave, but you listen to this, Byakuya Kuchiki," Ichigo proclaimed, his temperament as resolute as the day they crossed swords all those years ago. "I won't tell you I love, I'll show you. I'll wait for you, and even if you never decide to be with me, you'll never doubt just how much I love you!"

With a quick flash step, Ichigo was in front of Byakuya cupping his tear stained cheeks. He planted a short yet deep kiss on the man's lips, and when he drew away, Byakuya reflexively leaned forward as if bargaining with them to stay. "You already know how stubborn I am, so when I say I won't give up, you know I mean it."

Byakuya said nothing, because he couldn't say with any degree of honesty that he didn't believe the grit behind Ichigo's decree. Instead, he just watched blank faced as the other hesitantly removed his hand and disappeared into the wind.

"We'll see, Ichigo."

 **xXx**

 **Arkarian7: Thanks love, hope you like the update.**

 **Tifanny91: Ah, I'm glad someone appreciates poetry the way I do. I don't know if you can tell, but my writing style is greatly inspired by poetry/lyricism. I'm totally in love with Sylvia Plath, and she inspires my writing a lot. Anyway, you're totally right. Ichigo was in denial, but it kind've all built up to be too much for him to deny. I'll get into why exactly he had such a hard time letting go in the next chapter. I've alluded to it, but nothing too clear. Poor Bya is right. :( He did go through this same thing with Hisana, only, as he said, at least she acknowledged his feelings. Thank you for the review!**

 **siwon611: Your continued support means a lot! Thank you. :) And I'm glad you like it. You're right. Humans, were rather complicated. Almost always our feelings contradict themselves at some point. Were very rounded, not flat. So I try to implicate that notion in my writing.**

 **Ember Hinote: Aw, Thank you, doll. I appreciate the comment.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! Ah, so this is it, and as always, I can't help but feel sad whenever I finish a story, but it's probably a good thing, considering I have other stories I have to write. This chapter is long for your pleasure, so please enjoy and tell me what you thought!**

 **Also, at the end when Ichigo brings up the question about the color, it's a call back to the first chapter. I felt like I should probably give you guys a reminder since it was one line in the first chapter, and if you don't recall it, what he asks at the end would seem really random.**

 **Anyway, I replied to comments at the bottom.**

 **Good vibes ~ Ashes.**

 **xXx**

Ichigo jolted awake. His sweat glistened chest rose and fell at twice the speed in attempts to keep up with his thumping heart. Once again, he'd been bombarded by nightmares that seemed to know no seize. They were always the same, _always_ of that night, and he was starting to wish his psyche could get some new material. It seemed his brain wouldn't let him forget what a colossal screw up he was even in his sleep.

Aware he wouldn't be able to rest easy, he slid off his futon and turned on the light to his division barracks. He gave a cursory glance around the barren room that seemed just a little more empty than before, then he dragged his feet to his barely used kitchenette to make some tea.

After the brew was finished and his cup filled, he walked onto the terrace and started wistfully at the falling snow that canvassed everything with its merciless frost. Where he use to find beauty in how it stole the thrill of color from the earth, now that icy blanket of death suffocated him.

Although you would think the snow reminded him of Rukia, it did not. The blizzard morphed everything into an almost silver gray, and it reminded him of Byakuya and all the things they'd never have together. Now every time he looked at the snow, pain radiated through him until his bones ached from the sight, but for some reason, he couldn't seem to ever tear his eyes away.

He shut his lids, and the tears that had started to pool in the edges glided down his cheeks. His palms applied more pressure onto the tea cup as if he was trying to absorbs the porcelain's warmth, but it did him no good.

A year ago, if you told him he'd not only be in love with a man, but that that man would be Byakuya Kuchiki, he'd say you were out of your mind, but he didn't really know Byakuya Kuchiki then. Not as more than the rule bound aristocratic with rain drops in his eyes. Not as more than a comrade, a once enemy, Rukia's brother, but now, he waited for Byakuya in the same manner the snow - smothered flowers longed for spring. Only, unlike the flowers, it was not an undeniable truth that they'd ever bloom again, not when Ichigo plucked them from their roots.

He shook his head in ridicule as he turned and walked inside. He could stand woefully amidst that silver storm until it buried him, but when the snow melted and the heat came, there he would still be, frozen by the sorrow he felt. That was nothing a season's passing could take away.

After depositing his haori and deciding to keep on his scarf, he walked down the narrow hallway with a goal in mind.

It had occurred to him that, after what transpired between Byakuya and himself, the pain he felt in regards to Rukia was a mere paper cut in comparison, because with her, he had been missing someone who was never his to begin with.

Before, even when he felt at his loneliest, he was never really alone. Not when Byakuya's compassion always loomed over him in patient reservation. His gallant prince in the shadows, he was a comfort Ichigo had never asked for but desperately needed, wanted. He didn't even realize exactly how much until he could no longer feel Byakuya's vicinity, and with the dearth of Ichigo's closest companion, all of life's vivacity left with him.

Now, in the wake of their parting, he really was alone. So much so he felt a great distance towards everything around him. Colors faded, food was lackluster, and all sound just buzzed like static in his ears. At times, it felt like when Byakuya left, so did all of his warmth, and now it was as if he viewed life and all of it's interactions through the constant obscurity of a snowstorm. From everything, he felt so far away, beyond reach.

On a tarp covered, cheap wooden table sat a canvas and multiple chipped tea cups filled with paint brushes and water that were a spectrum of muddied hues, most different variations of grays and blues. He hovered above the canvas of which took up most of the table and noted how his hair tickled at his features, features that sat as blank and unmoved as the freshly fallen snow. Without even realizing it, his hair had grown longer than he'd typically allow. From a nearby stand, he grabbed a blue ribbon and situated his haphazard plumage into a short and messy pony tail in which the pieces that weren't long enough to be held back framed his face and breached his eyesight. Contemplatively, he stood eyeing the unmarked canvas.

What do you get the man that wants for nothing, who reaches out for things and always find them there? Ichigo had learned that love could be spoken in many different languages. Byakuya, a man who was raised wealthy, found it natural to shower Ichigo with gifts to display his affection, and though some may have considered such doting shallow in its existence, it was merely the way Byakuya had been taught to convey love. More so, the fact that he took the time to see what Ichigo actually lacked and bestowed on him what would make his life fuller, instead of frivolous gifts that he thought might impress Ichigo, showed an earnest care that was as boundless as the expanses of white that now covered Soul Society.

After much thought, Ichigo realized what Byakuya reached out for to find never there, and it was something money couldn't buy. It was arms, warm and inviting. It was snowmen and frost bitten lips. It was rainy Sundays, kisses stolen underneath the cover of a duvet, and limbs so intertwined you didn't know where yours stopped and the others began. It was secrets spoken in a quiet darkness. It was chard meals you still ate because you loved the other too much to shame their efforts. It was _'tell me about your day'_ and _'come home soon so I can undress you of all your burdens'_. It was silly fights and _'please don't go.'_ It was someone seeing your worst and your best parts and saying _'how could I ever leave?'_ It was the simple rarity of being known by someone and knowing another.

Gestures, it was gestures not of currency but of heart that Byakuya Kuchiki both lacked and so desperately needed, because what did this life mean if after everything we did, in the end, we did it all to end up alone? Without family, friends, or a lover, without someone, what did any of it mean? Ichigo couldn't be sure, but he was certain they were each others someones. In the maelstrom that was Ichigo's life after the war, much like a snowflake at the will of a tenacious wind, he'd been blown astray by his circumstances. Both lost, they found each other, and now wayward once again, Ichigo would do anything to get back home.

Honestly, for a while, Ichigo worried about how he would fill his words with meaning, because the last thing he wanted was for Byakuya to feel dispensable, or that he was only worth the breath it took to give him empty promises and false hope. Luckily, on one of the few occasions he was mindlessly walking through the streets near his barracks, it came to him.

Although Seiretei was known for it's more traditional lifestyle, a myriad of shops livened up the capital. It made sense, considering the gotie members were not only paid a sizable income, but also, taichou were compensated for individual missions they took on at their own discretion. What else would they do with all that money?

There were shops for all sorts of things, one of which was owned by Byakuya's ex fukutaichou and sold the eyewear that'd you almost never catch Renji without. There were tailors and weavers. There were tea houses and restaurants of which you could go dancing. There were zen gardens where people could go to mediate, or places available for horseback riding and archery. You wouldn't find any movie theaters or bookstores on any of these corners, but still, it was plenty to keep the members of the gotei entertained and the economy thriving.

On this particular day, on his way to grab some dinner, Ichigo was struck by a shop that sold art supplies, and when he saw canvases lining the windows, he thought of Byakuya. Once the man told him that, 'If it makes you feel, then it is art.' It reminded him of why he thought of Byakuya as a painting that one handled with precious touches. It reminded him of when he would see Byakuya's watercolors and how it felt like he was gazing upon a part of the noble's soul that he showed no one else.

The trust conveyed in that gesture, it was tender and special, nothing like Ichigo had ever experienced, and he wanted to share that feeling with Byakuya, but he had to earn the right to share a life with the noble. So he let all of his efforts flow into the brush as he taught himself to paint these expressions of his truest feelings. Although he was a novice, over the weeks, he cultivated his skills, and day by day, he gained a finer fineness. Eventually, it was no longer just something he did as a means of connecting with Byakuya, but it also helped him reconnect with himself. In a way, these two mission were one in the same, and it was how he brought color back into his now dreary life.

He only hoped that when he showed Byakuya these illustrations of his soul, the noble saw parts of himself reflected in the canvases as Ichigo did with all of Byakuya's acts of love, because one of the realest, most colorful part of Ichigo was Byakuya himself

 **xXx**

Byakuya would make it through his day like he had made it through most of his life: tactfully reserved and eloquently concealed. Lately, however, it was a combination of eagerness and disappointment that he held to himself.

A lot could be said about Ichigo Kurosaki, but no matter what, Byakuya thought he really knew him. He thought he saw Ichigo, but maybe one of the things Byakuya had seen meant he couldn't really know the young man at all.

Ichigo was young, and in regards to love, he was an infant. Loving was hard, but it was especially hard when you were still in the process of discovering yourself. Ichigo knew who he was at his core, the values that made up the man he became, but as one grew older, it was only natural for them to evolve. So, perhaps, Byakuya just saw him in a transitory stage of his growth. He saw who Ichigo was at a moment in his life, but not who he'd become.

Although, Byakuya, after having gotten to know Ichigo, had fallen in love with the man himself, not just any one trait. Within Ichigo, there would always be parts of him that couldn't be fragmented even by a force as unyielding as time and sorrow. That vibrant youth would always be a spectacle to Byakuya.

It was for this reason that Byakuya couldn't help but to hold onto the trust he long ago gave to Ichigo. If the words came from Ichigo's mouth, Byakuya believed, without falter, one day they'd come to fruition. Only, day after day, he found himself wondering if this would be the day Ichigo backed up his decree with fallacious action, and every night, he only hoped it would be next, but after a month of nothing but white noise, Byakuya wondered if he was being childishly idealistic.

Apart of him thought Ichigo's love could transcend time and evolution, but maybe Byakuya had just reverted back into that naive romantic he'd once banished. Although, it became transparent that this part of him could never be completely sequestered, because with a grave desire, he wanted Ichigo to prove him wrong just like the young man had done so many times in the past.

So he waited, as patient as ever, but he had to wonder if Ichigo's grandstand of love would be enough to pierce the icy thickets he fortified himself with. Over the years, he'd became an expert at denying himself, partially from his upbringing and partially for self preservation. So while apart of him was one step away from Ichigo's arms, just waiting for the signal that it was okay to let himself fall, the other half didn't know if one act of sincerity could possibly be enough for Byakuya to lower his defenses once again. He feared that, after enough time passed, all of the faults Ichigo once found endearing would lose their appeal. After the novelty wore off, Ichigo would realize he had mistaken respect for love and had senselessly gotten himself intertwined into something they should have never started to begin with. The honeymoon phase would pass, they'd be standing there, stubbornly anchored, painful silent, and all that would be left was a mess to clean up.

He supposed he'd just have to wait and see.

As he did every morning, Byakuya entered his division and made his way towards his office, and like always, he expected to be greeted with a cup of freshly made tea on his desk. He past by Renji's sloppily organized work space that sat in an enclave right outside of his own and allowed himself a furtive eye roll at the mounds of unfinished paperwork.

At an abrupt shattering resounding through the space, Byakuya shunpo into his office and saw Renji standing wide eyed and paralyzed, surrounded by broken pieces of porcelain and hot tea that soaked into the carpet.

"Renji, what's the meaning of t-" Words left the noble as he took in what exactly had arrested Renji's motor functions.

Enveloping every inch of the walls, from floorboard to ceiling, were watercolors, but not just any watercolors. Each canvas, though varying in size and format, depicted a prideful, thriving sakura tree standing amidst an unrelenting blizzard. Some of the tree's were small, distant, and their liveliness seemed almost untouchable. Others were just barely in frame, but you could see hints of pink brushing the skirt of the canvas.

One, however, overtook them all. In the middle of the mass collage was the biggest of canvases. Width wise, it probably beat out Byakuya's desk. Like the others, it, too, portrayed a sakura tree blooming in a snowstorm, only this tree was painted up close so you could only see the branches and their pink growth. It took up about three-fourths of the painting, and the petals that were blown from their branches by the storm were swirling against the snowflakes as if attempting to drive out the cold.

For moments, Byakuya couldn't speak. Instead he just felt a tingling that seeped into every tendon he had, and he became lost to the sensation.

"Renji," he whispered, "leave."

Finally snapped from his spell, Renji gapped at the broken glass and back up towards the noble. "But Taichou, the gla-"

"Leave it be for now."

Renji flashed him a weary look, but lofted his tongue and vanished without another word.

Tempestuously, Byakuya supported himself against his desk, as his legs felt weak from the onslaught of emotion. It been so long since he _felt_ this intensely, and it seemed vigilant to work it's way through his bloodstream and attack every defense he had.

Byakuya, as logical as he was, had to stop himself from rushing Ichigo and kissing him wherever he stood so he could share in these emotions that seemed to be too much for one man alone. However, he was not a person to let his feelings outrun his discipline or dictate the choices he made. So with eyes shut, he tried to gather his thoughts.

When he felt himself calm, he opened his eyes to notice, for the first time, that the scarf he left on a coat rack by his door had been taken and replaced with Ichigo's. Slowly, he moved towards the garment and ran the fabric through his fingers. In the privacy of the moment, he couldn't help but to chuckle.

"This is how you show your love, Kurosaki Ichigo," he said to himself as he kneaded the silk between two fingers. "You break into my office, steal my clothing, frighten my Fukutaichou, and make a mess of everything. You are…" at the warm prickling filling his eyes, Byakuya's words trailed off, and he unhooked the scarf to place it around his neck.

He inhaled deeply. It smelled of Ichigo.

Reality came back to him, and Byakuya realized he hadn't the time to think so deeply into this matter. Today, they were inaugurating a new captain into the gotei thirteen.

 **xXx**

The ceremony was quick, but not quick enough for Byakuya's taste. Or perhaps, it wasn't long enough.

When he arrived, the room hushed and all eyes befell him. It confused him for a moment before he remember that he was wearing Ichigo's scarf, and even though the decision to wear it was a completely conscious one, Byakuya had to wonder what prompted the poor decision making. It wasn't as if Ichigo and himself were secretive about the friendship they harvested over the course of those six months, however they both despised introspection into their lives, so they never flaunted the relationship. Although, with the gotei consisting of a bunch of gossip vultures, it wasn't like they hadn't gotten use to the constant pecking of their companionship.

More so, he was worried of what kind've message the adornment would send to Ichigo. Would wearing this somehow signal he accepted Ichigo's gesture? He hadn't considered it yet, but it seemed his subconscious had decided for him. Still, he was much too rational to determine his life based off some automatic response solely.

In his spot, he closed his eyes and dipped his head as he often did, and he shut out the speculative murmurs. Mostly, he tried to not think about the empty space beside him that would now be filled with Ichigo for the foreseeable future.

When the ceremony was underway, and Ichigo stepped out, the scarf around his neck caused another barrage of whispers to fill the room, and Byakuya was sure he meant to detach himself from it all, but he got caught up in the sight of Ichigo. His chest swelled as he watched on, moved by all of what Ichigo was and all of which he had accomplished, and when Ichigo stepped down and took his place beside Byakuya, he gave him the most subtle yet heartfelt smile Byakuya had ever seen, and the noble thought that he would like more than anything to see that smile directed towards him everyday.

They stood side by side, and it felt right, oddly at home. So close to one another, Byakuya could practically feel Ichigo's body on his, and when he felt the back of Ichigo's palm discreetly bump into his own, a shot of reviving air filled him, and he felt lighter. Ichigo, too, was affected, as he could hear him release a soft and almost needy sigh. Byakuya jolted his hand away before he found himself compelled into furthering the contact.

Finally, the meeting ended, and Byakuya was sure neither him nor Ichigo had really been paying attention since Ichigo took his place in formation. Ichigo turned to him, and for an instant, no one's intrusive stares filter through. Byakuya just saw Ichigo standing there expectantly and chalk full of bravado.

Byakuya dipped his head marginally, hesitated, and then he stated simply, "I am not ready. I need time."

Ichigo accepted his answer with a tiny smile and a nod of the head.

"Take as much as you need, Byakuya." As he past by the noble and their shoulders brushed, he leaned in towards Byakuya and whispered, "I told you, I'll wait on you."

All Byakuya could do was nod in response, and before he knew it, Ichigo was gone.

 **xXx**

"So what's up with you and princess anyway?" Zaraki asked before he chugged down a pint of beer.

Ichigo rolled his eyes and looked mindlessly into the clear liquid of his sake cup.

In celebration, everyone wanted to go out for drinks, and almost every seated member had came except the one person Ichigo really wanted to see. He felt obligated to go, but he wasn't as oblivious as everyone thought he was. Most of everyone was spread out around the pub, and Ichigo stood amongst a small group of reapers, but he knew their intentions from the start. It had just been Zaraki who stated it so brashly.

"What do you means what's going on between me and _Byakuya_? Nothing."

"You are wearing Taichou scarf, Ichigo," Renji said.

Ichigo shrugged a shoulder and took tentative sips from his cup. "It's a nice a scarf."

"Oh, come on, Ichigo-san," Shinji chimed in, "He was even wearing yours."

"Yeah, you're trading clothes like you two are girlfriends or something," Zaraki tutted.

"Were friends," Ichigo said with a scowl.

"Oh, so that's what we're calling it these days," said Shinji.

"Whatever. Think what you want."

"I don't see why it's such a big deal if you two are together," said a bulging Rukia. "I think it's great."

"Yeah, I'm sure you do," Ichigo said with the rim of his sake glass muffling his voice.

"Excuse me?"

"Look," he said, "have you thought that maybe I'm telling you the truth? I mean it, we're not together." Twisting his face, Ichigo asked, "Do you really think that if Byakuya and I were a thing, we wouldn't tell you two at least?"

"So why are you two wearing each others scarfs like you're sweet on each other?" Renji asked.

Ichigo forcefully put his cup down, and he said, "It's nobody's damn business but ours."

"Chill, Ichigo-san, we're just concerned," Shinji said.

Ichigo snorted in retort. "More like nosy."

Zaraki donned an incredulous look that promised mischief as he downed another drink. "Well I'm with the midget, I think it's great! A pretty thing like that? Mannnn, I bet he's a freak when the lights are off. It's always the quiet ones who are like that."

"Zaraki Taichou, you need to watch what you say," Renji warned, noting the way the tips of Ichigo's ears turned as red as his own boiling blood.

Nonetheless, Zaraki was not swayed in his lewd speak. If anything, this encouraged him. "That girly zanpakuto of his too, man I bet he likes to take it like a whore. I've noticed that nice ass of his too. So if you're not really claiming that, I'd like to take 'em for a rid-"

Ichigo stopped the vile Zaraki was spilling with a fist to the face. His nose was bloodied and crooked, but he stood there unmoved, his wicked grin still unyeilding. "Ya' got really angry over someone who ain't even yours."

"Together or not, I won't stand here and listen to you speak that way about him." Ichigo all but growled. "But if you ever talk about him so lowly again or try to touch him, It won't be a fist I swing at your face."

Ichigo finished his drink in one valiant gulp, slammed it on the bar, and said, "Thank for the party, guy's. It's been a blast," before leaving the pub.

"Ichigo!" he heard Rukia say as he began to storm down the sidewalk. He turned back around to see Rukia waddling towards him, a hand pressed to her expectant tummy. "Ichigo," she said with a frown, "I'm sorry about all this."

Ichigo shook his head a couple of times and threw his wrist flippantly. "Don't worry about it. I know how Kenpachi is. He was just trying to rile me up, and I let him."

Rukia bit her lip and looked off the side. "It's not just that. I'm sorry about everything."

"Everything?"

"Yeah. I know I probably haven't been the best friend lately. It's just," she paused, looking thoughtfully into the darkness. "The way me and Renji grew up, we always had to be strong. We never complained." She looked back to Ichigo. "But you, you're not like us. Yeah, you're strong, but you were just a human teenager before this. I forget that sometimes you need more than a kick in the ass, and it's not fair for me to expect you'll deal with things the way we do all the time."

Ichigo sighed and raked a hand through his hair. His stature settled a bit as he stepped closer. "I've been distant too, so it's not all on you. And I get that about you guys, so I don't really expect it."

"That why Nii-sama is good for you. As cold as he appears, he's things that other people can't be for you, right?"

She looked up to Ichigo with eye brighter than he'd ever seen on her, and it made his expression soften slightly. He understood the hidden message within her words well enough, and he knew that one question would probably be the closest they'd ever get to talking about all the things they'd never have the nerve to say, but Ichigo thought that was more than enough. "Right." he said with a smile.

"Ichigo, if something's going on with Nii-sama, you should let me and Renji help. I can tell things have been different between you two."

Ichigo prompted her with a cocked eyebrow, and she put on an impish smirk in return. "Oh, Ichigo, you're so easy to read. I didn't miss that dopey grin you started sporting. So unless you've recently recovered from six months of insanity, I can tell something's been up with you this past month."

Ichigo thought the he actually had just recovered from six months of insanity. He had been so delusional that he was certifiable.

"Did you screw up, Ichigo?" Rukia asked with a scowl.

"Why do you just assume it was me!?"

"Fhh- What a dumb question." She moved her hands to her hips with a grin. "So you admit it, something did happen?"

"Yes! I fucked up, alright? I'm glad to not disappoint your expectations."

Rukia dropped her arms, walked straight up to Ichigo, looked him in the eye, and kicked him in the shin twice.

"What the hell was that for?"

"Partially for hurting Nii-sama, and partially to fulfill my duty as a friend. I may not be the best at comforting sometimes, b-"

"That's the understatement of the year."

"BUT I'm good at giving you a kick in the ass, and you look like you need a few." She crossed her arms and asked, "So what's your plan?"

Ichigo wore a defiant scowl, but under her unrelenting stare, his shoulders slumped in dejection. "It's nothing you can really help me with, Rukia.

"I knew it. You're so rash that you never make plans."

"There is no plan because I'm not scheming anything! Byakuya needs time, and I'm just trying to give him what he needs."

A soft sniffling reached his ears, and Ichigo gaped down to see a misty eyed Rukia. "Rukia...are you...crying..uh," he patted her shoulder stiffly. "Don't...uh...you don't have to do that for my sake, really. Please don't cry."

Rukia jolted away and bared her teeth to the man at the same time Renji made his way outside to stand beside the woman. "No way! I'm not crying." She looked up to Renji and asked, "Renji, am I crying?"

While handing her a handkerchief, he said, "No way babe, you never cry. Ichigo's dumb." He looked up to Ichigo, gestured to her belly, and mouth the words "She's crazy."

Ichigo chuckled a bit at the sight. Standing there with them, looking at the perfectly matched dweebs, Ichigo thought that not only was this right, but for the first time in a long time, he felt alright with it. That was a nice feeling.

Rukia blew her nose and sucked up any stray tears. "Well I'm glad you're considering Nii-sama so much, but still, if you need any help with anything, let us know."

Renji leaned an elbow on Rukia's shoulder and said, "We've both spent over fifty years around him, so we do know the guy pretty well." He flashed a smirk. "Nice paintings, by the way, Romeo."

"Paintings?" Rukia asked.

"The last true romantic over here snuck into Taichou office and hung up paintings everywhere. He's making the rest of us guys look bad."

Ichigo scoffed. "You do need any help from me to do that, Renji."

"Well I hope everything works out. You two are so stubborn that I don't think anyone else could handle either of you." With one last smile, Rukia turned to leave, but was drawn back in by Ichigo.

"Hey guys," he said, rubbing his nape and coloring a bit, "there is something I could actually use your help with. Byakuya's birthday's coming up pretty soon, and there's something I wanted to do, but I don't think I can do it on my own."

"Don't ask dumb questions," Renji said. "Of course, we'll help, but if you need help it must be an even bigger surprise than the paintings.

Ichigo put on a sheepish smile and said, "Yeah, well, he's worth it."

 **xXx**

No one knew Byakuya Kuchiki. Raised by his taciturn grandfather and touched by sorrow at such a youthful age, he carried himself with sad eyes and a rigid disposition, and people viewed him with only the tiniest of scopes and the shallowest of intentions. A beautiful specter, an edifice of self discipline to be tip toed around, a prince dripping with gold and disdain, a man who kept his arrogance and disenchantment as sharp as his blade, forgotten, overlooked, untouchable, that was the Byakuya Kuchiki most people saw, but not Ichigo.

Byakuya Kuchiki was just _more_. He was galaxies undiscovered, boundless like the uncharted breadth of the universe. He was cosmos you could never see simply because you did not yet have the means. Knowing Byakuya Kuchiki was like looking upon the heavens with breathless ignorance, absolutely dazzled by the existence of something so majestic and your connection to it that you were both disheartened and pleased that you'd never quite understand such a vastness, because to understand it would make it less than what it was. That was Byakuya Kuchiki.

Byakuya Kuchiki was a cabin, warm and cozy, in the midst of a blizzard. He was a song that made you envious of emotions you've never felt. He a was feeling you thought you forgot, a comforting silence, a meaningful roar. He was the life saving moment of reflection you took before you jumped, the gasp of air you managed before being pulled underwater. He was intense eyes and satiny touches. He was a flower that outgrew its parameters, a soul that outgrew its body, tentative hands and a nervous heartbeat. He was everything he didn't want people to see, the solace of a familiar embraces within a rigid foundation. Byakuya Kuchiki was a silver lining wrapped up in amazing grace, and Ichigo wanted to wallow in his salvation.

Yes, Byakuya Kuchiki was just more, and as Ichigo sat concealed upon a lounging futon on the second floor terrace of the Kuchiki mansion, he thought of this. It was sounds of Byakuya stepping onto his deck that brought him back to reality. He inched a bit closer to the edge in an attempt to hone in on the conversation.

"Rukia, Renji," he heard Byakuya say, "What can I do for you?"

"Happy birthday, Nii-sama!"

"Yeah, happy birthday, Taichou."

"Today is not my…" there was a hesitation. "Ah, I suppose it is. Though I have not celebrated in decades. What is the meaning of this?"

"Nii-sama, hear us out before you flip out."

"Rukia, when I have I ever _flipped out_?" he asked, and Ichigo couldn't help but to snort at the mental image.

"You're right, however, I know you don't really like celebrating your birthdays or gatherings much, and..well.."

"What Rukia is trying to say is, in a few minutes, this place will be filled with people coming to throw you a birthday party. Actually, it's more like a festival, and you can't turn them away, because they put in a lot of work for this."

There was a long moment of silence, and just as Ichigo began to get worried, he heard Byakuya say, "I do not understand. What would possess someone to do this?"

At Byakuya's blatant confusion, Ichigo was equally stirred with a desire to smile and a desire to cry. Byakuya couldn't fathom why anyone would go through such trouble for him, and while that made his heart ache, to see a subtly enthused Byakuya basking in what it meant to be seen, to know that the feelings Byakuya imbued in him would be present inside of Byakuya himself, was enough to melt Ichigo.

"What possesses Ichigo to do anything?" Renji said. "I don't want to know what goes on in that crazy head of his."

"Ichigo…"

"Yes, Nii-sama. He told us that you always had an infatuation with Living World festivals, so he decided to throw you a mini Bon festival for your birthday. He didn't do it alone though. He recruited a lot of help. Ukitake-Taichou is bringing the food."

"Soutaichou is bringing the alcohol, of course."

"Kisuke-san and Yoruichi-san chipped in too. All of Ichigo's friends from the living world taught us the dances. The shiba's are doing the fireworks. Oh! and a few shinigamis are going to run vendors. We're even going to send paper lanterns flying. We would do the floating, but there's no river. A lot of people worked together to make this happen, Nii-sama, but it wouldn't have happened without Ichigo."

There was another silence, this time much longer. "Of course," Byakuya said, "he is a hard man to deny when he is so determined…Where is Ichigo?"

"Uhh, I'm not sure," Renji fibbed, "but knowing him, he's not too far away."

"So does this mean you're okay with the party, Nii-sama?"

"For him to go through such an effort, it would be rude of me to dismiss it," he said simply, though Ichigo could hear the way his voice inflected as if it was struggling not to crack, and a smile grew on Ichigo's face that he could feel scattering through his whole body as a result.

"I hope you have the best birthday ever, Byakuya," Ichigo whispered.

"People will be arriving shortly, Nii-sama. So if you have anything you need to do before hand, I would go ahead."

"Right. I must change, but I'll return in a moment."

From the veil of his terrace, Ichigo watched as the night played out, and though he could not see Byakuya, he could just feel it. He could feel the man's enjoyment as if it was his own, and it almost felt like touching Byakuya. Ichigo wished he could be there to share in these experiences with the noble, and maybe one day he could, but that wasn't what this night was about.

After the darkness became thick and all the dancing had been done, it was time to release the lanterns, and as hundreds of shimmering lights littered the sky and sent the darkness blazing, Ichigo looked up in aw. They looked like souls lighting up the path to better days, and he hoped that when Byakuya looked upon the scene, he could only think off all the good to come.

When he heard the sound of a shunpo, a smirk creeped onto Ichigo's face. "Took you long enough to find me."

He stood and turned, and what he saw redefined the word beauty for him. Standing in stark opposition to the twilight, Byakuya's resplendent aura blurred the darkness, and Ichigo knew the lanterns were not the main attraction that evening. His eyes slid up the black kimono that intently enticed a person's eyes into a slow draw up the wearer's physique. The hem was embellished by a barrage of rose petals that drifted up the garment in a gradient until they vanished into the fabric, and his feathery locks were tamed by matching hair sticks, yet a few wisp escaped and hung freely over his proud features. Wrapped up with a simple gold chain that sat right above the hollow of his neck, Byakuya was romance swaddled in sophistication, and if it could, Ichigo thought that even the night would want to keep Byakuya for itself.

He was sacred, reserved, only accessible for those privileged few, and Ichigo prayed that he was among the worthy.

"It is not that I found you, but that I merely decided to come to you," Byakuya said as he took a step closer.

"You felt my presence?"

"It was more of an instinct." Byakuya paused, and his voice trembled like it was speaking words that once betrayed it, like legs standing on the edge of falling. "I believe that, no matter what, I will always end up standing face to face with you, Ichigo."

Ichigo absorbed the words and let them take shape in his head, but everything felt hazy since Byakuya appeared. The atmosphere was provoked and shifted under his influence. The air smelt sweeter, and the other lights dimmed in piety. "You look...stunning."

Byakuya closed his eyes briefly before he looked out towards the sky. "Thank you, but I am nothing in comparison to these lanterns."

He took a step towards Byakuya, and their eyes captured each others. Ichigo was struck, and he thought that this was what loving another person should feel like. Maybe it wasn't the only way to love, but to him, it was the best way. "What lanterns?"

An almost imperceivable blush claimed the Kuchiki lord's cheeks, and oh god, Ichigo wanted nothing more than to make Byakuya's body give away all his secrets.

"Why did you stay away?"

"Tonight wasn't about me, Byakuya. I didn't want you to think this was just me trying to get you back."

Byakuya fanned his hand outwards. "You threw a festival for me," he said as he looked around with wistful disbelief. His face was as soft and porous as the snow, and even appearing so open, Ichigo thought this was the strongest Byakuya had ever looked, because what courage it took to lower ones shields.

Ichigo looked on confidently, and there was no bashfulness like he'd often feel when saying something so sincere. He did not worry about trying to seem aloof or coy, and he left his own pretenses at the door, hoping it would prompt Byakuya to do the same. He didn't always get the words right, because, like Byakuya, he wasn't a man who showed his truest self through words, and Ichigo, for once, was hoping his big mouth would work in his favor. "If it would make you feel as special as you are, I'd throw a dozen festivals for you."

Byakuya nodded as he reigned in some of his usual composure. He took another step forward so that he was standing only a couple of feet in front of Ichigo. "But you do want this, correct? Us?" he asked as he closed his eyes. At the feeling of Ichigo's hand cupping his cheek, they hesitantly opened to see such a gentle honey lavishing him with unabashed sentiment.

"Do you even have to ask?"

He inhaled deeply and nuzzled his cheek into the coarse palm. He both loved and hated the feel of Ichigo's war - torn hands. While he could practically feel Ichigo's valor through the toughened skin, he could also feel all that the man had given up to earn those calluses. "You are young, Ichgio, and I am not an easy man to be with. I am bound to set of rules and traditions you will never quite understand, and I do not want you to jump into this head first, only to regret it." Byakuya, more than anything, didn't want to be regretted by Ichigo.

Ichigo shook his head. "I don't want easy, and I don't need to be fifty years old to know that."

"You are headlong, as aways."

Ichigo's eyes sharpened, and there it was, that damn Kurosaki obstinance. "We can just be friends for as long as you want if you really think I'm going to change my mind, but I'm not."

"I do not believe I can simply see you as a friend, but you can not be sure of this," Byakuya said

"Because we're not just friends, Byakuya. Look, we can dance around what we are, try to put it off, but I think we've waisted enough time being stubborn. You're right, I can't be be sure, but I really believe we can make this work as long as _we_ actually want it to."

More teasingly, Byakuya said, "And I see you are still arrogantly optimistic."

Ichigo smirked. "I call it determination."

"I'm not a man that keeps many friends or any at all. In fact, I'd say few people actually like me. People will never seize to give you grief about your choice to be with me."

"I've never cared what other people thought, and I'm not going to start now. If they have a problem with it, they can screw off. Besides, if I really cared about what other people thought, do you think I would have gotten so many peoples help with this festival?"

Byakuya's chin pointed definitely. "I can be cold and distant. I can be demanding. These traits will always be apart of me."

"I think I know you better than you give me credit for." Ichigo's smirk deepened. "When other people see cold, distant, and demanding I see a man who's sacrificed everything for his family, even his own happiness. I see a subtle warmth and compassion that, if you pay attention, isn't so subtle. I see a guy who put his all into another person and is scared of what it means to do that again. I see you, Byakuya." Ichgigo noticed the way Byakuya's eyes shift with an unusual amount of uncertainty. "Anything else?"

Byakuya chewed at his lip ever so slightly. "I...snore."

A laugh, radiant and consuming, exploded from Ichigo, and Byakuya thought he'd never heard something so melodic.

Now using both hands, Ichigo cradled Byakuya's face and connected their foreheads. Byakuya could feel his smirking mouth pressed against his upper lip. "I think we'll make it work somehow. Now the question is, do you want to make this work?"

Byakuya Inclined his head ever so slightly. "Do you even have to ask?"

When Ichigo pulled his head back an inch, Byakuya wound his arms around Ichigo's waist and pulled him in for a bracing kiss. It was deep and honest. They were all swollen lips and needy, lapping tongues, and the only distances between them was the miles of skin stretched across their limbs. Together, their bodies were like wax, hot and molded, and the snow of winter was all but forgotten in the hunger of their application. The tundra never had a chance. They could taste each other's air and unspoken truths, and it tasted like ' _I'm sorry'_. It tasted like _'I've missed you'_ and _'Please let this be real_.'

When Byakuya broke the kiss and rested his forehead against the others, Ichigo leaned forward trying to nip at Byakuya's mouth once more, but the nobleman pulled away with a teasing smirk.

"I, too, can instigate a kiss, Ichigo Kurosaki." Byakuya said.

"Yeah you can," Ichigo, eyes fluttering and mouth drooping, said. "You should do it more often. I actually feel kind've dizzy."

Ichigo leaned his head on Byakuya's shoulder and held him tightly. As his breathing began to settle, he let out a jagged sigh. "Thank you for being patient with me. Im too stubborn for my own good sometimes…I could have really lost you."

Byakuya coxed Ichigo's head up and held his cheeks in his hands. His face looked both tired and relieved. "Giving up is hard for everyone, especially for you, Ichigo, when it goes against your very nature. To go from loving someone so greatly to barely thinking of them at all, you feel as if you lost them all over again, like you lost a part of yourself, but truthfully, you have not lost Rukia. You have just redefined what she means to you. Likewise, you could never lose yourself."

Once more, Ichigo kissed him softly, and then he did it again and again, joining their lips with simple and alleviating touches. He couldn't get enough of Byakuya Kuchiki's flavor, and he vowed to make up for lost time as he greedily preoccupied Byakuya's mouth.

"Here," Byakuya said as he pulled Ichigo's scarf from the fold of his kimono.

Ichigo eyed it dubiously. "It works better if it's around your neck, you know?"

Byakuya looked down to the scarf and then back up to Ichigo with a frown. "It does not match."

"What do you mean? It's red and so are the flowers on your kimono."

As if it was the most obvious thing in the world, Byakuya said, "They're two different shades of red, Ichigo."

Ichigo snorted and shook his head humorously. "Hey, It's not like you're with me for my fashion know how."

Byakuya looped the scarf around Ichigo's neck with the smallest of smiles. "I believe this is apparent."

Ichigo netted his brow as Byakuya adjusted the scarf. "Why are you giving this back to me?"

"It is only temporary. I will take it back in several weeks, if this is alright with you."

"Yeah, sure, but why?" he asked, his brow still furrowed in confusion.

The red that colored Byakuya's cheeks betrayed his attempts at being casual. A red that was so light, Ichigo knew few would ever notice the change. "Do you deem an answer?"

"No." Ichigo smirked. "I just want to know what could make the great Byakuya Kuchiki red all over."

"It is this cold!"

Ichigo flashed him a knowing look. "Whatever you say, Byakuya."

Byakuya huffed and closed his eyes. "It has lost your scent."

The grin on Ichigo's face seemed like a permanent fixture. He felt totally punch drunk, stupid in love, but he couldn't find himself to care. He hadn't felt so compelled to smile since he was a kid, and that was both terrifying and exhilarating. "Who knew you were such a sap?"

"This coming from the man who threw a festival for me."

Ichigo rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Heh, fair enough. I guess we're both pretty hopeless."

Byakuya crept his fingers along the borders of the scarf and nudged Ichigo back in. With their faces so close, their noses brushed, and they could feel the sweeping of their lashes against their skin. They took turns teasingly ghosting each other's lips as they got lost in their shared affection, and with their arms tethered, without realizing it, they began to sway gently. It felt similar to the night of the wedding when they danced under the starlight, only this time, their eyes did not shy away. They looked at each other, bold and full of certainty.

A firework shook the stillness of the night, and they were broken from their mutual trance.

Dryly, Byakuya teased, "Leave it too a Shiba to ruin a moment."

Ichigo chuckled, and then admitted, "I sort've forgot where we were for a second," as he looked from the sky and back towards Byakuya.

Byakuya kept his eyes locked on the sky as he said, "I could never forget where we are, because you have given me a truly unforgettable evening." He turned his attention back towards Ichigo. "Thank you."

Ichigo smiled and held out his hand. "Well it's not done yet." Nodding towards the futon, he asked, "Watch with me?"

Byakuya overlapped his hand with Ichigos "That sounds lovely."

Ichigo led them to the futon where he sat against the wall and carefully guided Byakuya to sit in between his legs and lean against his chest. The pressure of Byakuya's body against his own felt right, and as he wrapped his arms around Byakuya's waist, Ichigo thought he had never held something so precious. What existed between them, he would protect it and handle it with prudent hands. He would feed it love and thoughtfulness and watch it grow. With his moon to guide him, he would never again be lost at sea

As Byakuya looked up, his face was washed in the blossoming reds and blues, and they gave vigil to the specks of wonder that burnished his eyes. Seeing him stripped of his defenses, surrendering his trust as he looked to the sky, so present and bone bare, Ichigo couldn't tear his eyes away. He was right, Byakuya was an eye thief, only it was Ichigo's eyes he stole. His glare wouldn't break. How could it? He was taking in a masterpiece, and everything else was swallowed up by his fullness.

Byakuya gave him an aslant glare and smirked at the dazed features. "It is rude to stare, Ichigo."

"Huh... oh, sorry." He blushed, but squeezed Byakuya tighter all the same. "You're kind've distracting."

Byakuya settled in deeper as he arched his neck to look at Ichigo. "Or perhaps you are just fanatical beyond hope. I fear that you will rub off on me."

Ichigo's fingertips pressed softly against Byakuya's jaw and guided his face closer so they could feel the others tepid breaths roll against their own lips. "What's so scary about that, huh?" He smirked. "I'm not that bad, am I?"

Their mouths tickled each other's, and Byakuya spoke against Ichigo's parted lips. "Horrible, actually," Byakuya said, and he pursed his lips to hide a mixture of amusement and worry. When Ichigo gave him a knowing look, he said, "Abandonment goes against my very nature, but for you, Ichigo, I feel as if I am such a fool. This is a frightening sensation."

Ichigo ran a thumb over Byakuya's lip as if considering the words, and he thought how amazing they sounded. For Byakuya Kuchiki to openly admit fear was an inspiring thing indeed. "I can't tell you what will happen in the future, but I can say for certain that I'll put everything into this. You can trust that, and I think you do, because you're giving me the chance to give it my all. So stop calling yourself foolish. Letting yourself be open to this, that doesn't make you a fool, Byakuya. It make you courgaous."

Byakuya's eyes went bright as they reflected the colorful combustions, and Ichigo could see a change in him. Something had been awoken by the sparks of their affection, and no matter how rigid of a disposition Byakuya projected, Ichigo would take it all, because he knew what great heart lied beneath.

"If that is so, it is because you give me courage, Ichigo."

Ichigo's eyes were steadfast, and when he spoke, it was as if he held all the answers to life's most important questions. It was with certainty, and Byakuya couldn't help but to think about what an arrogantly optimistic man he'd fallen in love with, but when they kissed, Byakuya sensed Ichigo's determination, and he relinquished everything to it. He was free falling, but instead of fear, he felt liberation.

"If you continue to kiss me like this, I may have to allow you to take me to bed." His eyes sat low and enticing. "Are you prepared to take responsibility for these reactions you cause in me?"

Ichigo's eyes darkened, and there were no words, just more bruising kisses.

Byakuya chuckled into the man's mouth, and Ichigo could feel it vibrate deep in his throat. "You have always been a man of action."

"And trust me, I plan on taking that action and doing it right this time, but before we get to that, can I ask you a question?"

"Anything."

"What's favorite color?"

Byakuya blinked a few times as if he didn't understand the question.

"Mines blue," Ichigo said, as he tucked a strand of hair behind Byakuya's ear, "but not like the sky or anything. More like a dusky blue. Kind've like how your eyes look in certain types of light."

Byakuya blinked again as he looked off pensively into the distance. He then tussled Ichigo hair in admiration. "I've always found your hair color intriguing. Like you, it can not be missed."

Ichigo grinned and snorted at the notion. "Only you would find interest in something so unruly."

Byakuya put on a tiny smile. "It was certainly not a calm and obedient nature that drew me towards you."

They sat there for a moment, silently sharing in their happiness. In comparison, everything else was static, because when they looked at each other, all the possibilities seemed endless. In these countless prospects, they'd let themselves sink, because for the first time in a long time, they did not fear drowning.

"Happy birthday, Byakuya."

 **xXx**

 **Tifanny91: Hey love! I know the chapter was pretty intense, but I hope this all worth it. More so, I hope this could feel authentic. I tend to write about love very earnestly. Perhaps I'm a romantic like that, but at the same time, I didn't want to make it sickly sweet, especially the last part, because that just doesn't seem like it would fit with of their characters all too well. I'm excited to hear what you think!**

 **akirahiguchi: Hey there! So your comment was mega flattering, because I do try very hard, even in a story this short, to make the characters actions and emotions seem authentic. Sometimes I do it better than others, but I'm glad to know that this felt right. I hope the last chapter lived up to your opinion of the rest of the story. Also, I write a lot of Byaichi stuff, and I love some more support and feedback. If you're looking for something longer and more detailed, I'm writing a story called "Slow Dancing in a Dark Room," and it's probably my most popular/well received story. Anyway, thank you for your comment and I hope to hear from you again. :)**

 **divprince: Ah, I live for this emotional stuff. I'm glad to know it had the right effect. I hope this chapter made it worth the trip! Thank you!**


	5. Chapter 5

**So just because I like surprises, I thought, why not give you guys an epilogue? I was a little apprehensive, because I typically like to leave my endings more on the open side. However, if you like the ending how it is, then you can always disregard this. I personally think it's adds to it, but some people enjoy their stories not feeling so "finished" if you know what I mean.**

 **Anyway, this is rather short and simple and lacks a lot of my usual flowery language, but I kind've wanted it to be that way. Something simple, sweet, and to the point.**

 **xXx**

 _Epilogue_

Ichigo snickered to himself as he tightly packed some snow together. He took a quick peek from around the trunk of a sakura tree and furrowed his brow when he didn't see his sisters.

"Where are they, we're suppose to get Bya-"

Ichigo was sent onto his ass, flailing under a barrage of snowballs being pelted at this face. When the attacked stopped, and he could finally see more than white, Ichigo looked up to see a smug Byakuya standing triumphantly in the middle of his sisters.

"I know all of your tricks, Ichigo." Byakuya said, "but after five years, I thought you'd be more creative with your tactician skills."

"Yeah, yeah," Ichigo huffed. "If I had some loyal soldiers, this wouldn't be an issue! Does family mean anything to you two?"

Yuzu placed a gloved hand on her expectant stomach and looked up to Byakuya with a smile. "'Kuya-Nii is like a brother to us too."

"Yeah!" Karin agreed, "and we like him more."

Ichigo scoffed from his casual position against the sakura tree. "More like he bribes you. He probably offered you expensive candy or zanpakuto lessons."

Byakuya sniffed and turned up his nose. "I would never."

Ichigo smirked up at his lover. "I know all your tricks too, Byakuya"

A strange sound resonated from Yuzu's belly, prompting her to look up at Karin. "Will you walk inside with me, Karin? This little guy is acting grumpy."

"He probably takes after Ichigo," she said, flashing Ichigo an impish grin as she took hold of Yuzu's hand.

After they left, Byakuya looked down to Ichigo with a tilted head. "Are you going to spend the whole day pouting in the snow?"

"You're a prince, right? Shouldn't you offer to help me up?"

Byakuya perked an amused eyebrow and bit back a smirk. "I did not think you were a damsel in distress," he said as he walked up and extended a hand.

Ichigo clasped it, only to send Byakuya tumbling into the snow. He quickly straddled Byakuya's legs as he hovered above his now snow drenched lover.

Looking down upon Byakuya with a smile, he said, "Gotcha."

Byakuya pursed his lips and barely contained the urge to roll his eyes. "You do this every year, Ichigo. Do not overestimate your element of surprise."

"And yet you always let me."

Byakuya softened and caressed Ichigo's rosy cheek, the contact warm and inviting. "It makes you happy."

Ichigo turned his face and kissed Byakuya's palm. "What can I say? I like traditions."

"Says the man who constantly complains about all the traditions within my clan."

"Well maybe if those stuffy elders had any fun traditions, I'd like them more." He lowered himself steadily, and an instant heat ignited at the hard press of their bodies. Byakuya trembled at Ichigo's hot breath and gravely voice prickling at his ear as he spoke between sloppy neck kisses. "But I like traditions like these…my sisters coming up here… kissing you in the snow…watching fireworks from our second floor on our anniversary… and making love to you until you're dripping with m-"

"Ichigo!" Byakuya yelped as he threw a handful of snow in the man's face.

Through bouts of coughing, Ichigo said, "What the hell was that for?!"

"You were obviously getting too hot and needed to be cooled down. I swear, you are becoming lewder than your father."

"Hey, take that back!" Ichigo said with a scowl.

The sly smirk that emerged on Byakuya's face pulled at Ichigo's heart, and it thumped furiously as a result. "If you believe yourself capable, make me."

Ichigo returned the smirk in spades. "I'm going to make you regret those words, Byakuya."

Snow was upheaved and limbs tangled as they playfully scuffled, and though he put up a good fight, Byakuya ended up under Ichigo once more, drenched and shivering. Ichigo looked down at his lover through floaty eyes. As always, he was too beautiful to know what to do with. Ichigo was forever suspended between admiring him or ruffling him up. Byakuya's thick lashes were glittered by snowflakes, and his raven hair was tussled and splayed. The white droplets caught the light in such a way his locks looked interweaved with crystals. The cold stung red across his ivory features, from his cheeks to the tip of his sniffling nose. His lips quivered as if begging to be warmed by Ichigo's kiss, and his eyes gave a smile that his mouth would often refuse.

Ichigo brushed some hair out Byakuya's face and looked at him with the same tongue tied wonderment as he did under that blazing sky five years back, and he still held the same thought as he did then. Byakuya's beauty was so vibrant, it even left the fireworks in reverence. After all this time, Byakuya still hadn't lost his luster.

"You're beautiful. Do you know that?"

Byakuya gave a rare smile. "How could I not? You never let me forget."

"And I never will."

Ichigo could feel Byakuya's racing heart echoing through him, and he saw the way his cheeks went just a shade darker. "Are you simply going to stare at me or are you going to warm me up, Ichigo?"

"Well since you asked so nicely," Ichigo said, his smirking lips crashing into Byakuya's

Their fingers laced on either side of Byakuya's head as they indulged in their deep and mind numbing applications. Frost bitten lips turned torrid as they forgot exactly where they were.

"We leave you two alone for a few minutes, and you're making out in the snow like a couple of teenagers," Karien said.

"I think it's romantic!" Yuzu gushed.

Jolted from his daze, Ichigo pulled himself up and helped Byakuya on the way. "In my defense, I'm still young. It's this old guy over here you should be scolding," Ichigo said as they both knocked the snow from their garments.

As Ichigo helped Byakuya dust the snow from his back, the noble said, "I'll have you know, for Soul Society standards, I am rather young."

When Ichigo went to brush the snow from Byakuya's hakama, standing out of the view of his sisters, he discreetly squeezed his lover's subtle bottom, and in his ear, he whispered, "Hell yeah, you are."

"Hey, theres a child here!"

Byakuya and Ichigo both turned around to see Renji holding Ichika and Rukia standing at his side. Ichigo blushed and put on a sheepish smile at being caught.

"Yes, Renji, I see that you are here," Byakuya said, completely unfazed. At the sensation of a new pulse radiating from Rukia's stomach, Byakuya sent Renji a reprimanding glare. "Renji, could you stop impregnating my sister? She does have a career to concern herself with."

Renji matched the glare and said, "Only if you'll stop getting handsy with my best friend."

Ichigo blushed even harder and put on a defensive scowl. "Do I have any say in this?!"

Rukia just chuckled and shook her head in ridicule. She took Ichika from Renji and walked towards Byakuya. The little girl, who looked no older than one, had been reaching out for Byakuya in a tiff. "I believe you said something similar when I was carrying Ichika, Nii-sama, and now you two are best friends."

Byakuya scooped up his niece, and as she tugged at his hair, he put on a soft smile that he could never hide in the little girl's vicinity. "Hello my little heiress," he whispered as the girl wrapped her tiny hand around one of Byakuya's fingers and cooed happily. As Ichigo looked on at the charming display of affection, he thought about what a wonderful dad Byakuya would be.

"Yeah, sometimes I think she likes Byakuya more than she likes us," Renji said.

"That's because he spoils her," Ichigo said as he walked over to Byakuya and tickled Ichika's protruding tummy, causing the girl to laugh and clap her hands.

"I do no such thing."

"I caught you making her a flower crown the other day."

"And your point is?"

Ichigo snorted. "Never mind."

"Well maybe you two should have a baby of your own," Yuzu said, "since you're both so in love with Ichika!"

"Yeah," Renji agreed, directing an impish smirk at Ichigo. "You want an ankle biter of your own, buddy?"

Ichigo shrugged a shoulder. "One day, yeah. Why not?"

Byakuya, who had been paying the conversation little mind, looked up to Ichigo with marginally gapped eyes. "And will you carry them, Ichigo? Is there something you need to inform me of?"

"There are other ways to have a kid!" Ichigo shouted.

"I'd love a little niece or nephew!" Rukia added. "Nii-sama would be a great dad."

"What about me?" Ichigo asked

"Eh."

"I believe this is a conversation that should be had between Ichigo and myself. Besides," he said, handing Ichika to Yuzu, "I believe Ichika would like some hot cocoa."

"That sounds great," Rukia said as her and Renji started falling in line behind Yuzu and Karin.

As Ichigo went to follow, he was drawn back by Byakuya's guiding hand on his shoulder. He looked up with a furrow brow at his lover. "What's up?"

Byakuya closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them, they were filled with a seriousness that surpassed Byakuya's usual heavy glare. "I need your assistance with something."

Ichigo fidgeted in his spot a bit. "With what? Is everything okay?"

"Yes, but I need your help in finishing this snowman we started."

Ichigo's jaw went slack as he glared dumbly at the man. "That's what's so important?"

Byakuya nodded his head in confirmation.

"Why the hell did you have to act like it was something serious! You scared me," Ichigo shouted, his typical scowl firmly in place.

Latching onto Ichigo's forearm, Byakuya began to drag the man through the snow, following the footprints they had created earlier. "This is of the utmost importance," Byakuya said simply.

Ichigo rolled his eyes and let out a resigned chuckle at his lover's, at times, quirky behavior. "You're lucky I find your weirdness cute."

As they stopped in front of the ungarnished snowman, Byakuya picked up some stones that had been left sitting off to the side at the impromptu snowball fight that had began when the twins arrived.

"Will you grab some twigs that are behind that tree, Ichigo?" Byakuya asked as he worked on giving the snowman a face.

Ichigo made a noncommittal noise as he retreated behind a withered sakura tree only a few steps off to their side.

Byakuya turned around right before Ichigo stepped back out into view, with him a thriving sakura branch grasped carefully between both hands. His eyes were shimmering, and his mouth grappled hopelessly as he looked up to a subtly smiling Byakuya with no words.

"Does that remind you of anything?" Byakuya asked.

Ichigo looked down to the branch perched in his hands and back up to Byakuya. "The paintings," he said, his voice choking as he attempted the words.

Byakuya nodded as the took steady steps towards Ichigo. "It was never that you saw me, Ichigo, but how you saw me that really mattered. Much like how many people see you, but few get the view that I do. No one else knows the way your brown eyes explode with color when the sun filters into our bedroom first thing in the morning. Or how you sometimes still have trouble sleeping because of nightmares from the war." Slower now, he inched closer, never breaking eye contact with Ichigo. "Few know how gentle you are capable of being or the way you melt into silence when I trail kisses down your body, and perhaps it makes me selfish to want to keep these things for myself," Byakuya said, his voice gravely and full of sincerity as he stopped in front of a misty eyed Ichigo, his face wide and unflinching. "But for once, I would like to be a selfish man." He placed a hand on Ichigo's fisted grip, and one by one, he uncoiled the man's fingers to reveal a silver band engraved with a sakura branch settled on a bracelet. His thumbs pressed gently into Ichigo's palms, and his voice lowered to just above a whisper. "If I promise to never hold you down, but to only to lift you up, can I keep you, Kurosaki Ichigo? Can I keep you by my side for the rest of our days?"

Ichigo was frozen. He spared not even a blink as tears rolled down cheeks that grew increasingly red. "Are yo- are you asking me what I think you're asking me?"

"I am asking you to become apart of my family, officially, if you so desire it," Byakuya asked, his fluttering heartbeat betraying the composed flintiness of his features.

Ichigo's eyes flickered frantically between Byakuya and the ring. "But what about the elders? I don't want to get you in any trouble, and I know they've been really adamant about you getting married and having kids, and w-"

"Ichigo," Byakuya said, relinquishing his grasp on Ichigo's hand to claim his chin and draw in his scattered attention. "You know as well as I do that when it comes to you, I will not bend to their whims. I will always take my responsibilities seriously, but I am the head of this house, and if we so desire to be married, than that's how it should be. I will not let them dictate my happiness. You are not dispensable nor optional."

If at all possible, Ichigo's eyes widened more, and he once again seemed lost for words. "Furthermore, though you say this now, if I were to truly sacrifice our relationship to appease the elders, you would have some choice words for me." He smirked only slightly. "Most likely of the obscene nature."

"Yeah...but…"

"Do not think about the elders or anything else. I want to hear what you want, Ichigo. Because if you so desire it, we can wed and have children of our own. We can be as much of a family as Rukia and Renji are." Tenderly, so full of wistful devotion and constrained anticipation, Byakuya echoed Ichigo's words from years past. "Now the question is, do you want to make this work?"

Ichigo looked down at the ring for a few painfully drawn out moment before he let out a shuddered breath. "Idiot," he said, only to look up with the same fiery determination Ichigo had towards all things he held a passion for. "Do you even have to ask?"

Byakuya's chin quivered a bit from the tears he encumbered, and his smile was delicate as he removed Ichigo's glove and placed the ring on his shivering hand. He looked up to Byakuya with a helpless, stupidly in love grin, one that Byakuya didn't see all too much these days after the reality of their affection became habitual. Seeing that grin so simply reminded Byakuya that, even if their feelings had become commonplace, dulled in sensation by the passing of time, they were still just as potent. An expression of that potency always lingering beneath the surface, just needing to be provoked.

He leaned in to offer his now fiancé a chaste kiss, but Ichigo had other plans as he looped his arms around Byakuya's thighs and lifted him up to where there bodies meshed and Byakuya's feet dangled above the snow.

The nobel laughed as his body was sandwiched between the trunk of the tree and Ichigo, and he dipped his head to join their lips in a bruising bout of intense kisses. He rested his hands on Ichigo's shoulders and wrapped his legs around his waist as well, trusting Ichigo's body to hold him up. When they separated, Ichigo buried his face in the crook of Byakuya's neck, and the noble felt a mixture of heated breaths and tears working at his pulse.

"Do you know how much I love you?" Ichigo asked, shifting to look back up at his lover.

Cupping Ichigo's face, Byakuya said, "As much as I love you, Anata."

"More every day."

Byakuya looked down at the man who had changed his life, revived his volition, and stirred a hunger for strong embraces and tentative touches he could call his own. He looked down at the man who both simultaneously deepened and satisfied that hunger, who shared in that hunger. He thought about how boring his life would be without this man. How, with Ichigo, even the most mundane of task were somehow special. He thought of how every little, frivolous moment of his life would be so much better when spent beside this man, even the not so easy moments that tested their love and resolve. He thought of how the simplicity of knowing he would venture into this unforeseeable future hand in hand with Ichigo, ready to face whatever the world threw at them as an inseparable pair, made him happier than he ever thought a man of himself capable of being. Byakuya thought that no matter what would become of them, he could not wait to take the journey together.

Smiling down at his fiancé, Byakuya said, "Then we have an indefinite amount of days to fill with this love."


End file.
